


MOTHER: Vengeance [ARC 1: It Came From the West]

by Ostricho



Series: MOTHER: Vengeance [2]
Category: Mother 1 | EarthBound Zero | EarthBound Beginnings, Mother 2: Gyiyg no Gyakushuu | EarthBound, Mother 3
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-23
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2020-03-09 21:46:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18925612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ostricho/pseuds/Ostricho
Summary: The first arc of an ongoing MOTHER 3 sequel. Joshua Dowell wakes up one Friday morning on the weekend before the eclipse. He feels content, ready to enjoy his day. The animals of Penton, however, do not.





	1. Toast and Sunrise

The year was 196X. 

Autumn had fallen over the nation of Latica, and with its arrival came the annual brisk air. The cold seeped through ceiling leaks and cracked doorways, making itself welcome in any home. Its abrupt appearance was enough to bring shivers to any person left in short sleeves. For the denizens of Grocken County, not even the ocean around them could keep the summer's heat. Cozy knit sweaters and heavy quilts once condemned to the closet reemerged. 

For Joshua Dowell, the weather was no less merciful. His head lay on a lavender pillow, his coarse black hair molding around its shape. From the neck down, a thick sheet enveloped his body, a cloth aura shielding him with warmth. He breathed in faint sighs, comfort and peaceful rest drifting in his mind. Deep sleep and the nightstand's twinkling lamp had guided him through the night. But now, it was time for the morning sun to shine again. It was the hour of a new set of open eyes, the reckoning of another day's possibilities. 

It was time for Joshua to awaken. 

At 5:59 AM, without warning, an alarming noise blared from the adjacent nightstand. It rattled and shook, emanating throughout the bedroom. It washed over Joshua, launching into his ears and prying him from his doze. With youthful vigor, his eyes snapped open, indigo irises revealed to the Friday morning. He swiveled, unrolling his fabric cocoon, eager to clap his alarm clock and bounce out of his bed. He faced the nightstand, open palm primed, and tapped the off button with fresh energy. Joshua smiled, craned his back, and thrust his legs to the edge of the bed frame. It was a refreshing stretch, one that flushed any groggy stupor from his system. There were no day's stresses to look back on, no tiredness holding Joshua down. There was no reason to not smile. So he did. 

Then, with a single epiphany, Joshua's content morphed into confusion. He was a single minute ahead of his schedule — Joshua always woke up at six o'clock on school days. There was never a reason to adjust his alarm, yet aside him, the crone that ended his rest kept braying. In the threshold bordering dreams and reality, Joshua had forgotten the cry of his own clock. 

His raven-haired head burst from the pillow, his soul brimming with panicked turmoil. He glanced at his nightstand, investigating each item abandoned on its cedar surface. His speckled composition book, pages fluttering, could not be the cause of the clatter. The two birthday cards from last week, still lying with their envelopes, were also excused. 

"Oh, no." Joshua tossed the crimson quilt from his torso and kicked his legs over the side of the mattress. Fifty-eight degrees tackled his body, a reminder of the season. Even as his skin adjusted for the blanket's disappearance, his goosebumps remained unpacified. Grim shadows of unfamiliar shapes spun across Joshua's walls, zipping past his eyes. The grotesque projections, enigmatic and disturbing, trailed from his ceramic lamp. 

His eyes swirled, and the minute hand of the alarm clock shot to the top of its display. The brass bells burst, arguing with the hum of the lamp but suffocated by its volume. The lamp, undeterred, continued to rock about, a seismic beacon. It twitched in Joshua's eyes, sending a mortifying cold into his pores. He reached again, passing the flustered clock, before pinching the lamp's beaded cord. 

He clenched his eyelids. Inches from his fingers, the lamp flung itself left and right. The visions of unseen forms spewed forth, waving about on his ceiling. Joshua could feel apprehension brewing. Whatever had possessed his lamp would not find humor in what happened next. 

"Alright," Joshua whispered. With his spoken commitment, he tugged the string. With a single pull, the light was cast away, lowering the room into a transparent grey. The images of monstrous unknowns faded from view, exiled from his walls. The vibrations of the angry lamp ceased. The howl from within the lampshade silenced, abandoning its duet with the alarm clock. Joshua, with an exasperated sigh, lowered his hand and silenced the bells, too. 

It had returned to an everyday morning. Joshua gazed at his hands before curling them into fists and rubbing his eyes. He blinked ten times over, his mind now ringing alarm bells of its own. Had he truly awakened this morning, or was he still wandering in an unusual dreamscape? He had to be in an off-key reflection of reality — in what universe did lamps come to life with dissonant fanfare? He inhaled, drawing in as much air he could, before releasing it through curled lips. His timid nerves, like the lamp, ended their jittering. He slouched down, retreating to his pillow, and groaned. 

"Everything's okay," Joshua said. "It was all a dream." 

"Young man," the lamp responded, "why did you turn that light off?" 

Joshua's reaction was instantaneous. He gave a sharp yelp and bolted against the bed frame with a bang. The back of his head, flowing with shiny black hair, ached upon impact. Joshua could not afford a moment of concentration to focus on the pain. He shuffled away from the nightstand, rolling his sheets with scurrying feet. He craned his head upwards, gawking at the beige lampshade. Emerging from the top of the lamp was a dark speck. The anomaly ascended above, wings fluttering, and resumed its faint hum. 

"I was merely trying to ponder my existence," it said, "while basking in its warm glow. It's strangely calming to think that one determined their own purpose in life." 

"What... What are you!?" Joshua's question was little more than a desperate wheeze. 

"What am I? I am nothing more than a moth. An enlightened moth, yet, a moth. I know my place." The moth flew forward, and Joshua flinched. "Meditating by the light... that is my purpose. Yet it seems you have your own purpose." 

"I..." Joshua stopped and scoffed. "I guess I need to wake up and leave my room. How are you talking, anyway? I've never seen an animal that... that could speak!" 

The enlightened moth swayed, considering Joshua's question while pacing the skies. 

"Well, you can hear me now, right?" 

"I... I suppose I can," Joshua said. "But how..." 

"Then," the moth interrupted, "then you've always been able to hear animals, child." 

"But that's not true." Joshua shook his head and shrugged. "This is the first time I've ever heard anything like this." 

"I hate to be the one to inform you, but that means animals have never wanted to speak to you before. It may be your plain looks or that wavering voice that caused that." 

Joshua gasped and turned away. He had not expected to start his Friday morning with a moth insulting him. 

"Forgive that," the moth said. "For some reason, I've felt much more aggressive recently. I hope you did not take offense." 

"No, no, I'm fine." Joshua crossed his fingers behind his back and frowned. "It's just a lot to take in, you know." 

"Mmm." The moth petered over towards Joshua's doorway, light shining through the crack underneath. It descended, focused on the rays boring from the floor, unresponsive to Joshua's words. 

"Where are you going?" Joshua kicked onto the floor, feet connecting with the thin-painted wooden planks. "Wait!" 

"I really shouldn't." The moth dropped to the door's bottom, washing its eyes with hues of incandescent gold. "I'm going to find a new resting place to philosophize at. Maybe it'll be on the rim of a porch light... or a lightbulb in a dusty garage..." 

"You can't just go! I have so many questions!" 

"I cannot stay. See you in our next lives." 

With that, the moth dipped past the doorway's crack, vanishing into the hallway lights. Joshua, with an anxious lunge, thrust his door open. He scanned up and down the duplex hall, examining each burning bulb for the scholarly bug. Joshua could not locate the intruder — it had vanished the moment it exited his room.

 "Well." Joshua tapped his foot and grunted. He was not satisfied, but that was the end of that altercation. With any luck, Joshua would be able to locate the moth again for further questioning. What did animals think about? What were their thoughts on people eating meat? And why on Earth would the moth choose to meditate in his lamp when he still had a minute to sleep? But if the moth was already heading on its way, that would be fine. Joshua could always try striking up a conversation with the neighbor's cat. 

"Okay then, Mister Moth," Joshua said, "I guess you have fun with that." He turned around and entered his room, flicking the light switch. Each element of his bedroom the darkness shrouded before was now in full view. His backpack rested by the closet doors. His laundry was strewn about, an ocean of cloth. Atop his nightstand, the minute hand adjusted. It was now 6:05, and that meant Joshua was now late for his daily shower. He did not want to be late for breakfast, so he tried to abandon his wandering thoughts. For the time being, he would pretend it was a normally scheduled morning. 

Yet as he gathered a change of clothes, the moth's buzzing wings kept flapping in the back of his mind. 

* * * * * 

When Joshua entered the kitchen, his mother was standing by the counter, blowing into a piping hot mug. Unlike Joshua, who was already dressed, Natalie remained in her nightgown, barely awake. Circles as dark as her hair outlined her eyes, staining the flesh above her nose. She yawned, puffing the curls of steam, before daring to take a sip. She resisted its heat, swallowing a fiery gulp, as the scent of fresh grounds cleared her sinuses. It was a comfortable aroma, one that still cloaked Joshua's maroon jacket. That fragrance of morning coffee followed him wherever he went — Mom and home were never far as long as he wore it. 

She yawned again, engrossed with the vapors of caffeine. Joshua stepped forward again, and her gaze shifted towards him. 

"Oh!" She placed the mug down and gave her eyes a thorough rubbing. "You're sneaking up on me now? I have my bean juice here, I don't need someone to scare me into waking up!" 

"That'd be some way to start a morning." Joshua bit his tongue and glanced away. There was no need to tell his mother about the aggressive moth incident. To inform her that animals were sentient and aggressive? If she believed him, that would be the end of walking to school without her company — a privilege he earned a week ago. And if she did not believe him? The last thing Joshua needed this Friday was a mental evaluation. 

"...Maybe I do need one," Joshua admitted in whispers. 

"What's that, kiddo?" Natalie's eyebrows rose in immediate concern. "Need what?" 

"I... I need some toast, I mean! I'm hungry." Joshua stifled a toothy grin, crossing his fingers behind him. It was not exactly the truth, but Joshua's stomach grumbled as soon as the fib left his mouth. It was time for breakfast, after all, and a mention of his favorite food was enough to make him hunger for it. It was a great pair for the sunrise, whether topped with cinnamon, peanut butter, or jam. 

"Of course you do." Natalie shook her head. "You're a growing boy, huh? Pretty soon, you're going to be taller than this old lady." 

"Oh, you're not old." Joshua had no need to cross his fingers this time — she was indeed young, only thirty-three years old.

 "I feel like it sometimes." She crossed her arms and peered down at the brown liquid teeming in her mug. Sitting next to it was a toasted, two pieces of bread cozied up in its slots. "I'm exhausted. You don't seem to be even slightly groggy. But just because you wake up faster than me doesn't mean I won't make breakfast for you." 

On cue, the toaster snapped to attention, shooting the slices of whole wheat up into view. A delightful shade of crisp brown coated their surfaces, vivid and enticing. Joshua felt his mouth water with anticipation as Natalie prepared a plastic dish. 

"And some coffee to go with it?" Joshua gave a cheeky grin. 

"If you want to stay shorter than me, maybe," Natalie said. "Let's try chocolate milk instead." 

Joshua shook his head, but he had no choice in the matter. He was not upset, though — in truth, he much preferred chocolate milk to any other drink. Coffee was abrasive and ground against his tongue, but the taste of cold cocoa went down smooth. Natalie pried the toast, warm and radiant, from the toaster's mouth. Joshua rubbed his hands in anticipation as she laid them on his plate. 

"Of course, the toppings are at the table already." Natalie smiled with closed eyes. She said table, but there was no such thing in their home. The duplex was small enough as it was, and the Dowells only had half of it to themselves. They had tried squeezing a dining room into the kitchen before, but it was a laughable attempt. No, their banquets of pizza and turkey sandwiches remained in the living room. A pair of foldable tables, with space for one pair of elbows apiece, would have to make do. 

Natalie finished pouring a cool glass of chocolate milk, and Joshua smiled. He escorted himself to the sofa in the next room and settled down. As expected, grape jelly and peanut butter awaited him at the folding table. Across the room, the television flashed, its faux wood siding matching the walls. On the musty screen, local news burned Joshua's corneas. He leaned forward, intrigued by the balding man ranting behind the glass. 

"That crazy mayor of ours." Natalie strolled through, Joshua's breakfast descended from her arms, onto the little table. Two delectable slices of whole wheat toast and a frothy glass of chocolate milk — another day in Paradise. The dishware clattered against the wood, only further enticing Joshua's senses. 

"You don't need to start your day with the news." Natalie reached down and snagged the remote control from the sofa's ratty cushions. With the tap of her thumb, the rambling mayor evaporated into an empty display. "It's not healthy. Breakfast is." 

"But Mom!" He made an exaggerated shrug and chuckled. "I want to learn." 

"Of course you do," she said, "that's why you're getting ready for school, right?" She reached over and ruffled Joshua's hair. He convulsed, but he tried to hide his dissatisfaction. He did not let the banter delay him any longer — he snatched a piece of toast from his plate. With his free hand, he pried the spoon from the jar of jelly, scooping up a succulent portion of the spread. 

"Look at you go. You're not taking any time to taste it." 

"I'm a growing boy, remember? I've been fourteen for a week, I need to start acting like it." Joshua gnashed at the toast, its ingredients combining into pure bliss in his mouth. Despite the claims of his mother, he savored every bite. There was only one breakfast per morning, so he may as well enjoy it while he could. 

"Oh! You just reminded me!" Natalie clapped her hands together. "I... have another birthday present for you! It's a bit late, but... but I think you'll like it." 

Joshua lit up, suspense inviting his ears, as he raised a doubtful finger. He meant to ask why the gift was so late, how she could have possibly forgotten. Before any questions could leave his mouth, Natalie rolled up her nightgown's sleeve. The light blue cloth retreated, exposing her pasty skin to the sunrise's embrace. Around her wrist, snug and taut, was a brass watch. It displayed reflections  — Joshua saw his own face among its light, aged by its surface. The scratches of the brass became one with his cheeks as if time itself was passing in an instant. The glass pane between his eyes and the Roman numerals was also scuffed and worn. Beneath the surface of the tarnished window, seconds flew past. The cogs ate their dust, creaking before adjusting the clockwork appendages. 

"It's a little used." Joshua alternated his view from his mother and her gift. 

"It's secondhand." She forced a chortle, and Joshua shook his head with a defeated grin. "Found it in my junk drawer while I was writing in my journal. I can't really say I've had much of a use for it." 

"Wait? Really? How do you ever know the time?" 

"There's a clock at the barbershop." Natalie shrugged. She guided the watch strap from its buckle, then lifted the old timepiece from her arm. "I don't have much to keep up with. But being on time is your sort of thing. What's the word for it again...? 

"Punctuality?" Joshua said. 

"That's right. You're a pretty punctual person, Joshua. That's why you should have it. Happy birthday." She surrendered the present, passing it forward to her son. He seized it in his grasp, exploring its texture within his palm. An almost uninterrupted smoothness. The reeded edges of the dial. The faint, hair-raising scratch of the strap. It was a concoction of sensory triggers, one that tantalized Joshua to make the watch his own. He threaded the device around his wrist, situating it upon new flesh. 

It was an adequate fit, all things considered. 

"Thank you." Joshua twisted his wrist, investigating the watch at all angles, but it was still 6:40 no matter how he looked at it. 

"Well, it was nothing," Natalie said. "It'll help me out too. Make sure we leave the house on time tomorrow. Your uncle wouldn't want us to show up too late, you know." 

"Oh, right!" Joshua giggled and stuck a single thumb up. 

"You didn't forget, did you?" 

"No way! I don't want to miss a solar eclipse, Mom!" Joshua clasped his hands together and swooned, chin turning towards the ceiling. "That's a once in a lifetime deal!" 

"And it's also on Saturday." Natalie brought herself up from the scratchy sofa cushions and yawned again. "I want you to go out and have a good Friday first. And for goodness's sake, make sure Carter gets his Frisbee back. It's been lying by the TV for a week now." 

"Has it?" He checked  — a plastic orange disc poked out from behind the television, snug against the wall. 

"You'd think he wouldn't leave things here. He's only one door over, he can just walk over and get them if he forgets." 

"Can he?" Joshua raised a doubtful eyebrow. 

"Maybe not." Natalie shook her head and laughed, but her chuckles morphed into further yawning. "Goodness. I need a coffee refill. Why don't you grab your backpack and get out of here, kiddo? You're keeping up with the time, right?" 

"I take the time everywhere I go." Joshua raised his wrist, showcasing his new birthday present to his mother. 

"You do now, anyway," Natalie said. "You're not planning on going out in your pajamas, are you?" 

"M-Mom!" Joshua sputtered and motioned at his jacket. "I'm already dressed..." 

"Wait, are you?” She feigned surprise. “I guess I'll see you after school. Don't study too hard today." 

Joshua acknowledged her request as paced back towards his room. As he trekked back up to their hallway, he took another look around, searching for the moth. The talking bug had not reappeared, yet this did not put Joshua at ease. It made every inch of his flesh tense up. An aura of unease had invaded his humble home, drawn into his lungs with each breath he took. Even a chatty breakfast with his mother was not enough to ward off his anxiety for long.

 If animals had stayed silent for so long, why were they now emerging from the shadows? 

Joshua could not help but quiver as he lifted his backpack off his floor. He placed the ratty straps over his maroon-clad shoulders.  Each zipper was shut tight - yet he still had grim premonitions of the moth bursting from his backpack. 

"Everything's going to be fine." Joshua's whisper vanished into the silence of the room. No furious lamps, no mysterious insects challenged his claim. It was a comforting claim. It sounded like something his mother would say, and that alone calmed Joshua's nerves. Joshua tightened his backpack straps and nodded. He stepped out of his bedroom again, this time with stifled confidence. It had been a morning of rude awakenings and blabbering moths, but despite that, he kept optimism. 

He had claimed that everything was going to be fine. The only thing left to do, then, was to prove it.


	2. A Walk With Friends

Joshua opened the front door of his duplex, and a delightful shower of morning light engulfed him. The rays of the sun tingled his skin, refreshing his nerves with a delightful warmth. He took a deep breath, and the scent of dew-dropped grass poured into his nostrils. He held his backpack over his shoulders and Carter's frisbee in his hand, but they did not bother him. The crisp sensations of the morning made Joshua feel as if nothing could weigh him down. Even so, reminders of the enlightened moth's hum persisted in his memory. Joshua had no desire to speak to another animal. It would be better, then, for him to talk to other humans instead. And if Joshua was not mistaken, he could hear chattering coming from the lawn already.

The Dowells shared the duplex with the Daudelynns, and Joshua was thankful for it. They were pleasant neighbors, ones that he did not mind to share the yard and garage with. Carter was his best friend, after all. Their rooms were both on the second floor  — visiting each other was as easy as walking across the roof.

"Hey, Jennifer." Carter was standing in the grass, his shirt marked with a capital C. He wore a teal headband in his light brown hair, but Joshua doubted he was doing any intense exercise. The redheaded girl nearby wielded a rake, its metal teeth scraping against the ground. The autumn leaves, crimson and brown, crackled and cried as she sorted them into piles. Though she was in the middle of lawn work, she wore a fanciful dress, adorned with patterns of purple.

"Jennifer," Carter said, "do you wanna join my band? We do practice in the garage here. I'm the one in charge, you know."

"I..." Jennifer stopped raking the leaves and trembled. "I don't know."

"We have plenty of instruments laying around. We find them at that landfill under the bridge. Plus, I dunno, we could hang out more?"

"I'm..." She sputtered and forced a nervous smile. "I mean, your dad pays me to rake the leaves, I'm just..."

"H-Hey!" Joshua called out, and they both turned towards him. Jennifer sighed, placed a hand on her chest, and turned around to continue raking the leaves. Carter flashed a grin, the frisbee in Joshua's hand immediately grabbing his attention.

"Hey! Hey, Joshua! You stole my frisbee, didn't you?"

“Yeah, I stole it." Joshua stifled a shrug, his fingers crossed and his mouth bent into a smirk.

"Aha!" Carter backed away, his eyes still locked on the plastic disc. "I knew it. You've been trying to hide it from me, huh? It's okay, I'll forgive you for it this time. Throw it over to me! C'mon, put your arm into it!"

Joshua bit his tongue, but he could not resist a challenge. He stepped down from his duplex door, twisting his arm back with a bent elbow. He hopped up and down, his feet pulsing and eager, then launched the disc forward. It zipped by, the flash of an orange projectile. Carter's eyes grew, and he dove for it, slicing the air with his lean body. His fingers brushed its plastic surface, hardly affecting its flight path. Carter plummeted into the rustling leaves below, and the frisbee continued. It met its resting place near Jennifer's feet, causing her to giggle.

"Maybe you shouldn't be the band leader," Joshua said as he walked into the yard.

"J-Joshua is in the band?" Jennifer asked, her voice pitched up. She squatted down, keeping her grasp on the rake handle, and picked up the frisbee. Joshua paced forward, taking careful strides to avoid Jennifer's leaf piles. Jennifer turned away, peeking at Joshua from aside, and passed the plastic disk towards him with a shy nod.

"Bad throw." Carter shook his head and launched up from the ground. With bits of crushed leaves and errant blades of grass on his shirt, he released a thunderous sneeze. As he gasped for his next breath, he lunged and snatched his frisbee from Jennifer's hand. 

"To answer your question, yes, Joshua's in the band." Carter raised his nose in dreadful smugness. "But it is  _ Carter and the Try-Harders, _ so if you were hoping to see him in the starring role..."

He paused. Joshua and Jennifer both winced.

"...well, uh, I'm in the starring role." Carter, flustered and without a clever punchline, ran a hand through his now leafy hair. "Silas and Desmond are already at school, doing all the boring stuff. You know, printing off the music and all that. I'm sure Silas is blabbering on about progressive cords or something."

"Chord progression, I think it was," Joshua said.

"What's that all about?" Jennifer raised an eyebrow.

"It's for people who like reading dictionaries. Anyway, I definitely wasn't going to wake up early for that."

"I had to stay up late to watch the new  _ Knights of Gaphila _ episode." Joshua crossed his hands behind his back and almost swooned. "I couldn't wake up too early, or else I wouldn't have gotten my full seven hours of sleep..." 

"Wait, you watch that show?" Jennifer began. "I... I also..."

"Let's not get off topic, guys." Carter started to trek out of the front yard, waving his hand. "Don't we have school to go to? Are you finished raking the lawn yet?"

"Who, me?" Joshua realized the foolishness of his own question as soon as it left his mouth and blushed.

"Yeah, it's done." Jennifer smiled and wrapped both her hands around the rake's handle. "Good thing Mr. Daudelynn paid me up front."

Joshua's eyes bulged, and he flung a finger at Carter. "You... You call him Mr. Daudelynn!?"

"Oh... Oh, goodness, no." Jennifer shrank behind the rake's handle as if it would conceal her. "I'm talking about his dad."

They descended into awkward silence, and an oblivious Carter turned around and sighed.

"We need to go, guys." He was on the verge of whining. "Where's your backpack, Jennifer?"

"My sister's bringing it, I'll get it sometime during school," she said. "And where's yours?"

"Oh," Carter said, "who needs backpacks?"

"I need one..." Joshua adjusted the cloth straps around his shoulders and made a pitiful frown. Carter did not expound on his disdain for backpacks, instead merely pacing away from the yard. Joshua pranced ahead, his backpack bouncing against his coffee-scented jacket. Jennifer followed too, dragging the rake behind her, its teeth still collecting leaves.

"Waking up early is nice... I can get some more spending money." Jennifer glanced at the cyan skies, visualizing her finances with a nod.

"You're always blowing it on those designer dresses." Carter extended his arms and cracked his knuckles.

"But… But they're nice dresses!" Joshua added in a panic.

"How much does Dad pay you to rake my yard, anyway?" Carter said. Jennifer opened her mouth, then slowly closed it. She had likely realized if she told the truth, then Carter would start begging to rake the leaves instead. That was Joshua's assumption, anyway — he could not read her mind, after all. 

Which reminded him...

"Hey, I... I have a question." Joshua placed his trembling hands in his jacket pockets. He planned on telling his friends about the moth that morning, but what if they called him crazy? Could he play it off as a joke? Should he ask something entirely different and forget about it?  
  
"What's that, Joshua? You wanna play frisbee again?" They continued down the sidewalk, past the saturated exteriors of Backsight Duplexes. Laundry lines and dented vehicles decorated the rows of low-income housing. It was a homely yet charming corner of Penton, one characterized by its own disorder. The concrete walk emerged from the site, passing a bare patch of dirt. Nearby, two bulldozers of a tarnished yellow rested. They stood, waiting to continue construction of the newest housing unit.  
  
"No, I don't want to play frisbee." Joshua shook his head.  
  
"I'll throw it over there." Carter pointed to the north, where the cliff faces of Penton watched the town. They stood tall, guardians of rock, surveying each movement in the quiet city streets. Between them was a gaping pathway — a chink in the cliffs' mountainous armor. Stretched across the opening, like a bandage, was a pattern of mesh wire fence. Jagged diamonds with crowns of barbs, their metallic geometry pulsed with electricity. Those too foolish to read the nearby warning sign would discover that with a single touch.  
  
"Please don't throw it over there." Jennifer shuddered and squeezed her rake. "That's a dangerous place. The mayor said so. That's why it's blocked, you know."  
  
"Of course I know." Carter sighed, reached back, and feigned throwing the plastic disc into the distance. "My dad works for Mayor Flakes..."  
  
"Mayor Gates," Joshua said, although Carter's word choice was clearly no accident.  
  
"Yeah, yeah. He's on the mayor's payroll, and we can't even move out of the duplexes. No offense, Joshua. You're the best next door neighbor I could ever have."  
  
Joshua couldn't help but smile and savor that genuine compliment while it was fresh. They kept onwards, heading south instead, where Chipper Middle School resided. As they drew away from the apartments, the humble downtown of Penton approached them. The tall grasses of the untamed field waned away into trimmed and mowed medians. The cobbled texture of old sidewalk turned a lighter shade of grey. Households and trees morphed into city blocks and businesses. The local Chicken Dinner was open, lights on, already at war with Ray Baxter's Burgers across the road. The scent of fast food breakfast mixed with the crisp wind, a pungent backdrop for the faint urban sprawl. Modest businesses lined up nearby — Dusk Fall Inn, Foods and Goods, Harry's Haircuts.  
  
"Joshua had a question," Jennifer said.  
  
"Oh, yeah." Joshua blushed. "I suppose I did."  
  
"It's nothing _weird,_ is it?" Carter's guess was so on the nose, Joshua could almost feel it reaching into his nostrils.   
  
"Well..." It was _weird,_ wasn't it? A talking moth? He couldn't tell them about that. Joshua considered crossing his fingers in preparation for a lie. He almost stifled an unimportant question about Silas's sheet music. Yet despite his fear of seeming _weird,_ he felt gumption brewing in his gut — assuming that wasn't moldy toast.

"This morning," Joshua said, "I found a talking moth in my room. It was in my lamp, and it shook it all around, and it woke me up. I... I don't know." He clapped a hand over his face to shield his eyes. His friends, perplexed and silent, watched him as he turned pink. Carter raised a single eyebrow, and Jennifer slowed her pace, dropping to the back of the group.

"You had a chat with a moth this morning, huh." Carter chuckled, disbelief evident in his smirk. "All that TV before bed isn't making you have dreams, is it? You're... You're not just pulling my leg right now, are you?"

"Carter." Jennifer, standing a few yards behind them, pointed at Joshua's hands. "He's not crossing his fingers. He has to be telling the truth."

"Who... Who told you about that!?" Joshua flung his hands into the warmth of his jacket pockets.

"Your mom was talking about it the last time I got a haircut." Jennifer ran her fingers through her curly hair. "Was that supposed to be a secret?"

"It's not anymore!” Carter laughed. “Thanks, Jennifer.” The three were emerging from downtown now, away from the crosswalks and the alleyways. In the distance, they could see Chipper Middle School approaching. It was a building of muted brick, constructed into a boring box -- an architectural cliche. The Latican flag waved atop the roof with ravishing shades of blue and red. Above the glass front doors, a clock was plastered onto the wall, yet its hands did not move. Maybe that was why a horde of students was clamoring outside in the front lawn. There was no way for them to know if it was time to enter the school or not. 

"Nobody, uh, nobody told me it was a field day," Joshua said.

"I thought we were still on the talking moth?" Carter put a hand on his chin. "I guess, any other day, I'd stop and call you crazy. But, to be honest... I had a rude awakening today, too. One of those stupid pigeons was slamming against my window, over and over. Only, like, it wasn't regular stupid. You should've seen its eyes. They... They were crazy."

"So... So you, too!?" Joshua wiped the beginnings of sweat off his forehead with a sigh. "I'm glad that's not just me..."

"Yeah, but it's not like the pigeon was  _ talking _ or anything. But, still, that's two of us." Carter tilted his head, and Joshua followed his lead. Jennifer continued on, oblivious, until Carter forced a cough. 

"Huh?" She turned, only to find Joshua and Carter both staring.

"Oh." She clenched the handle of her rake again. "I... No, I didn't have any encounters with wild animals this morning..."

She looked away and kicked the leaves underfoot with her moccasins.

"Other than my sister, anyway," she whispered.

"Then that's three for three, I'll be sure to tell her all about it." Carter flung his finger ahead, although their destination was obvious. "I think I can see her in that crowd already!"

"D-Don't tell her I said that!"

"Hey! Hey!" Joshua waved his hands, and his new watch sparkled in the sunlight. "Shouldn't we be more concerned about why everyone is just standing outside anyway? It looks like every single student and teacher is out here!"

They drew closer to the school, and their suspicions were only confirmed. Almost everyone they knew from their classes was lingering in the schoolyard. Students clamoured, trading worried whispers and chicken-scratched homework answers. Teachers threaded through the ocean of people, waving their hands in bewilderment. At the front of it all, a set of stone steps led to the school’s doors. A man in a brown blazer, muttering to himself and shaking his head, paced back and forth. It was Principal Nash, the head of Chipper Middle School. It seemed to Joshua that he was currently anything but chipper.

“This is insane!” Carter’s words seemed much more concerned than the curious grin on his face. “Wow, everyone’s walking around and knocking into each other and talking really loud! Now I’ll never get Taylor what you said, Jennifer!”

“I… I told you not to tell her!” Jennifer’s face began to turn as red as her hair. “Please! She’s already mad at me!”

“For what?” Carter said.

“I… may have borrowed her shoes,” she admitted.

Joshua pried his eyes away from the swirling crowd — he couldn’t help but see the shoes that were causing so much fuss.

“Oh, they’re nice.” Joshua nervously chuckled, and his eyes flickered away. “I didn’t realize Taylor wore, uh, muh… muh… muhsackins?”

“Moccasins.” Jennifer smiled, pleased with her knowledge of footwear lingo.

“Taylor can’t wear any shoes when her sister steals them,” Carter said. “I’m assuming that’s what everyone here is mad about? You steal all their shoes too?”

“Q-Quiet! She could be anywhere…”

“This isn’t about shoes.” Joshua didn’t have to do any additional research to know that. “Something’s going on here. We have to figure out. Where’s Silas and Desmond? They’re not inside printing sheet music, are they?”

“Guess we’ll find out,” Carter said. The three of them bore into the crowd, entering the mass of bobbing heads. They were in tight corners, inching their way through the spread of middle schoolers. The hubbub soaked into Joshua’s ears, and he sifted through the white noise for answers. Were there any spoken words at all that could help guide him to a conclusion?

“I don’t know why they won’t let us inside…”

“Is there something wrong with the school? I don’t understand…”

Another voice to his right. “Can you believe my sister stole my shoes this morning? Not that I ever wear moccasins, but still, those belong to  _ me _ …”

“Uh, let’s try going to the left,” Jennifer said. Her unhappy frown had slumped even further. Carter did not seem to hear her suggestion — he kept going straight ahead and provided no snarky comments. Joshua took the lead and guided the group in the other direction. The last thing he needed were front row seats to a clothing-fueled property dispute. In the meantime, he continued listening.

“There’s no way…!”

“ _ You’re _ the one who did this!?”

“Uh-huh, that’s right. You can thank me for the day off from school!”

_ Aha! _ Joshua thought.  _ That sounds a little more helpful.  _ He waded towards the voice, lightly pushing the arms and backs that came too close to him. Eventually, Joshua, Carter, and Jennifer all emerged from the claustrophobic clump of people. They had stumbled upon an opening, an oasis of green grass and clear space. In the center of it all, entertaining an audience of awed children, was a face familiar to them all.

His head was topped with blond hair, lavishing with a reflective film of grease. A chin, pointed like a dagger, rested at the bottom of his head. With a smirk twisted into eternal smugness, he surveilled the area. To his delight, his fellow students continued to circle around him. With Joshua and his friends’ arrival, he snickered and adjusted the sleeves of his striped orange shirt.

“You know it.” He crossed his arms, showcasing his brawny muscles. “I told Principal Nash that I’d beat him up if he didn’t close the school. And what do you know? He wimped out and shut the place down like a total square. So here we are now. You’re all welcome.”

“What!? Is he really…?”” Carter snickered and shook his head. “I know Roger’s a pushover and all, but now he’s saying he scared the principal?”

“That’s… That’s pretty ridiculous,” Joshua said. He had never held strong opinions for Roger — he was the sort that tried to threaten others into doing his homework. “You don’t think he really would have, do you…?”

“Not so loud.” Jennifer still dragged her rake behind her. “You don’t want him to hear you and get mad, do you?”

“I’m not concerned,” Carter said. “You should be worried about Joshua, he couldn’t beat up a flea if he wanted to.”

Joshua lowered his head and gave a quiet groan.

“Well, that’s because…” Jennifer put a hand over her mouth. “It’s because fleas are really tiny and hard to hit, isn’t it? I don’t blame him for not…”

“Alright.” He rose his head. “I just thought things over some more.”

“Oh,” Jennifer said, “I thought you were upset because of…”

“I’m fine, thanks, Jennifer.” He smiled at her, and she smiled back. Carter rolled his eyes. “Look, I don’t think any of these guys are going to tell us what’s happening. So let’s just ask the principal.”

“Now that’s a fine idea,” Carter said. “He’ll probably ask me why I’ve skipped detention so much. It’s because I didn’t want to go, by the way.”

“I hope you don’t get in trouble. C’mon, let’s go.”

The three, unsatisfied with Roger’s explanation, began to approach Principal Nash. Back into the crowd they went, fighting their way through to the school’s front steps. Surely the man in charge of the school itself would give them the answer they were looking for. 

They had no idea, but what they heard next was going to be even less pleasing.


	3. School Intruders

Joshua, Carter, and Jennifer wasted no time making their way to the principal. They were sure he would have an answer — Roger certainly hadn't any truths to spare. They were dead set on solving this closed school mystery. In fact, Joshua was so anxious to figure it out, he rushed ahead without being aware of his surroundings. He bolted, but the girl sitting on the school's front steps wound up in his way. 

She was short, no taller than five feet, and being so close to the ground did her no favor. Her hair was dark brown like mud. And with that dark green jacket of hers, she could've easily been mistaken for grass. So Joshua wound up bumping into her with his left leg. The binder she was holding, tattered and stained with graphite, went tumbling down. It fell, papers up, displaying her once private doodles to the world. 

Joshua jolted back, releasing a deathly gasp. His face turned to hues of Martian soil — his clumsiness had been otherworldly. The girl in the green only huffed, launching a disgusted glare at Joshua. 

"I'm so sorry...!" Joshua felt a part of his dignity die a slow, painful death. He'd sent her classwork flying. Another foot to the left, and Joshua likely would've sent _her_ soaring away, too. 

"Right." She looked more sleepy than angry. The dark ridges carved underneath her eyes were telling. Perhaps she'd been catching Zs before Joshua had jostled her awake.

"Hey...!" Carter's face twisted. "Don't say sorry to her...! That's Miss Snotty! Her jacket's green from all the boogers."

"Carter!" Jennifer almost gave him a disciplinary slap on the back, but she couldn't muster up the gumption to do it. "Her name's _Risa."_

"I don't care! She's a big jerk!" Carter crouched down, pointing a finger at Risa's scraggy binder. "Look what she's made! It's _me!"_

That instantly piqued Joshua's curiosity, launching his eyes down to the walkway. Sure enough, wide open for everyone to see, was a hyperbolic sketch of Carter himself. His hair, penciled in with offensive finesse, resembled an untamed mop. Buck teeth protruded from his maw like a jackrabbit. The proportions were far from flattering — unless skeletons with flesh blankets were "in".

"Oh." Jennifer placed a hand over her mouth. Joshua couldn't be for sure if she was nervous, or only hiding an amused smirk.

"That's so bad! Your art is terrible! I can't believe you were drawing that just now!" Carter stamped a foot in an ill-fated attempt to appear intimidating. "And I'm not twiggy! I have _muscle."_

"I finished that one last week." Risa's voice was coarse, racked with sleep deprivation. "I was drawing _Roger_ now, until this square stumbled into me."

Joshua didn't like being labelled as a two-dimensional shape. He covered his mouth with his knuckles, and for a moment, he and Jennifer were a match.

"Whatever," Carter said. "You smell, y'know. Try bathing more than three times a week. It'd do wonders for your complexion."

"Big word for you." Risa, with her supposedly grimy fingers, retrieved her binder from the pavement. She shook her head, tossing a lock of hair back over her right eye. And then, she was back to work. She flipped back to the caricature of Roger Sophar, letting her pencil fly across the paper.

"I'm... I'm sorry!" Joshua reiterating his apology did nothing to sooth Risa. In fact, she ignored him entirely. Jennifer cringed, hiding behind the teeth of her rake. Carter stuck his nose into the air, pointing it up at the cloudless sky.

"That's enough arguing with the zoo animals." He waved his hand, beckoning Joshua and Jennifer onwards. With gritted teeth, they passed Risa, resuming their quest to the school's front doors.

"There he is." Jennifer lowered the rake from her face, her eyes aimed at the quivering man ahead. "He... He looks terrified."

Principal Nash paced back and forth, stewing over untold dreadful thoughts. His brown dress shoes smacked the concrete, _prat-prat,_ in front of the school's entrance. 

"He looks almost as scared as Joshua does!" Carter smirked. "Shaken up all over a moth! I can still see it on his face!"

"I'm not like Principal Nash!" Aha — now that technically wasn't a lie. Even though Joshua _was_ a bit skeeved out by all the school's-closed drama, he still hadn't lied. Sweat cloaked Principal Nash, dripping from the armpits of his button-up shirt. He patrolled the front doors, forbidding their use, allowing no one inside. And though he and Joshua were both afraid, they weren't _alike._ At least, that's how Joshua justified not crossing his fingers behind his back this time.

Then, all four of them heard a squeak. It was faint, ever so quiet, yet Principal Nash still yelped. He swiveled his head around, forcing himself to check all his surroundings. Joshua, Carter, and Jennifer all mimicked him, tossing their heads about. Was there _something_ hiding nearby? Maybe it had only been the sole of the principal's shoe — perhaps wetted by his own sweat.

But Principal Nash only found the gaze of three curious eighth graders instead.

"Principal Nash!" Carter's shout did not do much to calm the poor man. Still on edge, he hopped back in surprise. The ground whined, and friction almost had not been enough to save him. Joshua scratched his head, as if convincing his brain that what his eyes saw was real. Principal Nash stood in a puddle of his own sweat — now that was _extreme_ anxiety.

"L-Look." Jennifer motioned towards the doors. In front of them, a shiny pile of painted metal glimmered with sunlight. It was a collection of empty Carbo-Nation Cola cans — and it had grown to the size of a miniature mountain.

"H-H-Hey, kids!" Principal Nash forced a smile, corners of his lips vibrating, as he ran a drenched palm through his hair. "Howdy doo? I'm loaded with sugar, caffeine, and liquids... and... and I still can't get a grip of myself...!"

"The heck?" Carter began to count the cans, though sadly, he had to restart once or twice. "That's eleven of 'em!"

"And he's sweated through them all...!" Even Joshua was aghast. His mother wouldn't even let him _touch_ caffeine on weekdays. "M-Mister Nash! What's happening here? Why is the school closed!?"

Principal Nash gave Joshua a prompt answer to his question — a pair of shaking eyes, brimming with fear. He opened his mouth, fighting to spit out a single syllable, yet his tongue resisted. Saltwater kept dripping from his shining face. Joshua wanted to recommend therapy and a shower, but he didn't want to come off as rude.

"M-M-Musophobia," Principal Nash said.

"Uh, I skipped the foreign language credit." Carter grimaced, unable to decipher the principal's advanced vocabulary. "You speaking ancient Gaphilan?"

"Carter...!" Jennifer placed a palm on her forehead, covering her curly red hair. "It's not foreign language! Musophobia, it's... it's the fear of..."

"Mooses?" Carter guessed.

"No...!"

"Rats." Carter sighed, crossing his arms.

"That's right! _Rats!"_ Principal Nash hunched over, hunkering towards the ground. "Their nasty little whiskers and teeth and the matted fur! They scamper around and eat things and it makes me want to vomit...!"

"I knew it," Carter said — but in reality, his last guess hadn't been a guess at all.

"P-Principal Nash! Please don't throw up! You'll lose your breakfast, and then you'll feel sluggish all day!" Joshua waved his hands, fighting to grab his attention, but Nash was too busy convulsing. "Are... Are there _rats_ in the school? Are you..."

"There are!" The first tears came seeping out from his bloodshot eyes. "Oh, it's terrible! There must be a hundred of them or more...!"

Carter snorted, dismissing that potential exaggeration with the wave of his hand. Jennifer took a step away from him and towards Joshua — she was exhausted from his misbehavior.

"And worst of all, two students are stuck inside of there! In my office! And there's nothing I can do to save them..." Nash's fingernails flew into his mouth, and immediately, he began to grind them away. "What will the school board do if they find out!? They could slander my reputation! They could fire me!"

"I..." Joshua began.

"Or worst of all..." Principal Nash hesitated, and Joshua saw part of his soul burn out in his eyes. "They’d stop letting me drink Carbo-Nation cola on the clock... don't they know the rush quells my anxiety?"

"I think he's talking about Silas and Desmond...!" With that, Joshua nearly descended into Nash levels of panic. "Th-They're in there printing that music, r-r-remember!?"

"Hey, hey," Jennifer said, "I'm sure they're..."

"Of course I remember!" Carter's brow had furrowed. His knees rotated, towards the school's front doors, as his fists turned to balls. "I was the one that told them to use the school copying machine! And now they're stuck in there...! Fear of rats, isn't that convenient!"

 _"Carter!"_ Jennifer's face flared up hot pink. "Quit yelling and insulting everyone! I'd like to see _you_ barge into the school, but here you...!"

Carter, without missing a bit, snarled with anger. Stomping his feet, he pushed ahead to the school's front doors. With a firm kick, he sent the pile of Carbo-Nation cola cans tumbling to the ground.

"I've got to get Silas and Desmond before those rats chew up my _sheet music!_ " He swung the door open, and then, the darkness within engulfed him. Not one light switch was switched on. There was only the swirling schoolhouse oblivion — and rats. A supposed hundred or more rats.

"Come back!" Joshua, Jennifer, and Principal Nash all shouted at the same time, but their words fell on deaf ears. Carter had never been a great listener. Perhaps that was partly from the hearing damage that garage band music had given him. But one thing was for sure — Carter was _not_ returning.

"Three students now...!" Principal Nash resorted to blubbering. His knees hit the pavement, hands held in front of him. Pleading a higher power for help was all he had left to do now. "Please, no more! One more kid lost in there, and... and I'm gonna cry..."

"Carter and Silas and Desmond are stuck in there!" Joshua couldn't believe it. Talking moths, and now, an invasion of rats? The animals were relentless. If there were rats in there, what if they started talking to Joshua, too? "We... We have to do something!"

"Huh?" Principal Nash's eyes bulged. "No, wait, no! No! You better not! You'll wind up with musophobia! Stay here where it's safe!"

"Joshua!" Jennifer grabbed one of Joshua's shoulders, pulling him further away from the doors. "Don't! You could... get really hurt...! It's not like you can just tell the rats to stop!"

"I..." He paused, struck to a halt by that idea. Telling the rats to stop. Assuming he hadn't gone crazy that morning, then animals _could_ understand him, right? And if he could understand _them,_ then maybe he'd be able to find out what they wanted. His mother always talked about that. Being civil and finding a compromise. Could this be an opportunity to save Carter _and_ stop the rats?

"Sorry," Joshua said. "I'm scared, but... I'm going inside!"

Principal Nash began to cry. He sunk all the way to the ground, wading in a pool of sweat and tears.

"Are..." Jennifer's rake was restless. She could not hold it still — it shook endlessly in her trembling arms. "Are you crazy...?"

"I might be." Joshua, too, was a victim of his own cowardice. An entire trio of nervous wrecks on the front steps of the school! Now that was something that Risa would start drawing if they didn't break it up soon. "But Carter's crazier, and... and I have to stop him! And get the others out, too! If I can...!"

It was in that moment that Jennifer realized, no matter how much she begged, he wasn't changing his mind.

"T-Take this!" She thrust her rake onto Joshua. Her gift-giving was so hasty, it almost walloped him across the face. "That should keep the rats away! Just don't break it...!"

Joshua felt a little light-headed, receiving a present like that. It was Jennifer's favorite rake, the one she earned all her spending money with. And if he broke it, then that'd be the end of her collection of pretty dresses.

"I won't!" He wrapped its handle with his fingers, acquainting himself with his new weapon. The wood was coarse yet sturdy. Such a tool was perfect for gathering leaves, but warding off rodents...? That potential use had yet to be tested. Joshua hoped he wouldn't have to use it at all. The rats would just need a good talking-to, right?

At Joshua's side, Principal Nash continued to weep.

"Don't worry, Mr. Principal Nash...! I won't do anything stupid!"

A few feet away, Risa snorted, likely doubting Joshua's ill-considered promise.

"Okay," Jennifer said. She took deep breaths, in and out, yet could not quite regain her composure. "It's just rats. How bad could it be...? I hope no one gets picked apart..."

That possibility made Joshua paranoid, but he had no good notes to end the conversation on. He strode forward, rake in his hand, and reached for the front door's handle.

Joshua bravely swung the door open, took another giant step, and almost fell to the ground. The soda cans lingering by his feet had tripped him up. He yelped, hoping nobody had seen that little error, before the school swallowed him up. Into the front hallway he went. Three echoing footsteps later, the door creaked shut behind him.

It was dim. It was a coarse sort of dim, one that clawed at his eyes and taunted them with harrowing shadows. The darkness that swirled about the hallways made his little heart double its pace. Where was the light switch at? Joshua wouldn't know — he'd never had to know that. He could recite Mr. Cook's history lessons, and Ms. Dufrane's grammar rules, but he didn't know how to turn on the lights!

Joshua swallowed. He feared he might've accidentally taken some of the black void around him into his stomach. It was as if his insides had liquified into a nervousness smoothie, one that was much too thick to drink. Yet though the doors behind him were tempting, he drew further away from them.

"It'll be fine." He whispered, but only to purge the uncanny silence that dwelled the hallways. "Find Carter... and the others..."

They were in the principal's office, and Joshua definitely knew where _that_ was. Not that he'd _ever_ been sent to the principal's office for misbehaving. No, Joshua had been forgetting his lunchbox at home all week — forcing his mom to drop it off at the school. He'd left class many times to find one of those turkey sandwiches waiting for him on Principal Nash's desk. There was usually a little sticky note, too, decorated with Natalie's handwriting. _"Don't forget to eat! I love you!"_ or something warm and fuzzy like that. Her chicken scratch was sometimes difficult to decipher, but...

Joshua realized right then that he'd forgotten his lunchbox at home yet again. Perhaps that was a good thing — he'd need his mother's encouraging words after _this._

More nothingness. Joshua's ears began to buzz. They, too, were without sustenance.

"Carter...!" Joshua's words ricocheted against the walls. He sped up his gait, heading further down the hallway. The claps of his shoe soles flowed throughout the entire school. They went on, garbled with each iteration of echoes. When they returned, they were like an alien screech. Wordless, horrifying drivel.

Kinda like Carter's garage band music, all things considered.

"O-Okay." Joshua held Jennifer's rake in front of him — as if he were a character on _Knights of Gaphila._ He wasn't exactly an ancient swordsman, but this was the best he had to offer. "The office is right around the corner."

Carter still hadn't replied, and that was out of character for him. How far into the school had he descended? Was he choking on the bad vibes that clung to each musty grey floor tile?

 _"Carter!"_ Joshua tried again. His desperate cry was launched into the emptiness of Chipper Middle School. Once more, his friend's name repeated itself, over and over. It decomposed, rotting into meaningless sound, until it was gone.

And this time, a response — a single _squeak._ From that noise alone, Joshua's face went as pale as his thrice-bleached socks. He flung himself about, investigating all around him, until he found the source of the sound.

Unless Carter was a whiskered specimen of the _Rattus_ genus with a scaly-looking tail... it wasn't him. It was a putrid creature, with damp and matted fur. All about its body were bald patches — scars from its life on the city streets. It assaulted Joshua's nostrils with the scent of a thousand moist dumpsters. With a toothy sneer, it stared up at Joshua with twilight eyes. Atop the rodent monarch was a headpiece only fit for the finest of kings. It was a cardboard crown labelled _Chicken Dinner._ Surely such a sovereign accessory had been stolen from an unsuspecting kid's meal! Joshua knew that everyone could be a king with _Chicken Dinner,_ or at least that was what the ads said. But he had never taken it so literally.

Joshua felt intimidated, and it wasn't because of the rat's supposed royal lineage. It was because the rat was the size of a small dog. So this was what was interfering with the school schedule.

"I... I...!" He took a step backwards, only to slip and fall. There had not even been a soda can to help him this time — no, he did it all on his own. Falling on his rump, he shrieked in horror. The rake clattered to the ground next to him. The king of the rats stared at him, challenging him. Its nose twitched.

"I," it began, "am the Fancy Rat. Do you hear me, commoner?"

"Y-Yeah...!" Joshua scrambled back a few feet, but the Fancy Rat lumbered forward to close the distance.

"You tried to run away, but you couldn't?" The Fancy Rat chuffed, sending leftover fragments of chicken flying from his maw. They rained down on the tiles beneath — the janitor was going to have his work cut out for him. "Even the principal was able to flee. What sort of pathetic human are you? If I had known you were so helpless, I wouldn't have bothered talking to you."

"My... My friends are...!" Joshua's own shock was interrupting his sentences. It wasn't doing much to improve the Fancy Rat's opinion of him, either.

"B-Boss! Squeak!" Emerging from the shade of a nearby hallway, another rat scampered up to the scene. Adorned with a tattered white cloth and goggles, it skidded to a halt. Joshua wasn't pleased to see _another_ rat appear — and this one wasn't any smaller. "Another human has entered the school...? Are they trying to reclaim their territory? I must hypothesize over this behavior, squeak!"

"Indeed, dearest underling Lab Rat." The Fancy Rat smirked, stood on its two hind legs, and adjusted its crown. "We came here to cause trouble, did we not? Let them come! The coming crusade will be glorious, yes. Ratkind versus the trash-makers! I cannot _wait_ to sink my kingly teeth into a holy war such as _that!"_

"I'm ready to sink my incisors into any sort of food! I must analyze some flavors soon! My scientific mind is running dry...!"

Joshua's head was spinning — a carousel of perplexity. This morning, he'd learned that animals _could_ talk. Now, they seemed to be blabbering on with a talent that beat most people out.

"I'm... I'm sorry for intruding..." Joshua's hands shook. He reached down, clasping the handle of Jennifer's rake. Just in case. "Really, all I want is to get my friends back. Can... Can I get them and leave? Is there anything you need? A trade...?"

"Hm? A trade? You dare bargain with the Fancy Rat? Why, I never... I mean, I never ate breakfast today, so I am quite hungry."

"Hungry! I, too, need caloric intake, squeak!" The Lab Rat's coat ruffled as it shook in excitement. "If there's anything we want more than to cause trouble, it's food, squeak!"

"Alright, then!" The Fancy Rat pounced forward, leaping onto Joshua's chest. He felt all the air escape his body as the massive animal depressed his stomach. _"What do you have for us to eat?"_


	4. A Royal Pain

Joshua was no stranger to being asked for food — he _was_ Carter's best friend. Some nights, Carter would knock on the wall from the other side of the duplex to see if he was still awake. And if Joshua knocked back, then Carter would slink across the roof and come in through the window. They'd watch _Knights of Gaphila,_ play board games, or just chat if they felt like it. Joshua had no problem listening to Carter fantasize about getting _big_ in the music world. He'd blabber on, saying he'd become famous and rich and meet those two cute singer girls down in Marteen. But he always asked for food, and Joshua would always get it. Sneaking downstairs and snagging snacks from the kitchen was not so difficult. After all, Natalie was a heavy sleeper. 

Carter had never leapt onto his chest and knocked the wind out of him when he wanted food, though. But this Fancy Rat was different. It took heavy breaths, assaulting Joshua's face with gag-inducing halitosis. Its whiskers brushed against his cheeks — a most uncomfortable sensation. Joshua wanted nothing more than to crawl out of his own skin. 

"Well?" The Fancy Rat sniffed, yet it could not smell even a whiff of any nearby grub. "Where is the food? You would not lie to a king, would you?" 

"I..." Joshua winced. What would the Fancy Rat do when Joshua admitted he had none? Dig its claws into his chest? Command his Lab Rat assistant to eat him alive? Belch? "I... I forgot my lunch at home! But if we can open the school up, I'm sure my mom will... will come drop it off!" 

"A hypothetical trade, squeak!" The Lab Rat snickered and chewed a bit of cloth from its coat. "I theorize that the human boy is lying! What an incorrigibly stubborn specimen! I say we dispose of him immediately!" 

"I am a monarch, not a banker. I will not give you a _loan,_ waiting for your _mommy_ to bring us our payment." The Fancy Rat crept closer, placing a clammy paw on Joshua's neck. The heat was sucked from his neck — and he was left shivering. "Now, writhing child, what plea have you for me next?" 

"M-M-My friends!" Joshua waved his hands, yet he dared not attempt to pluck the oversized rodent from his chest. "They..." 

"You've made your reckless _heroism_ clear. You're a thirteen-year-old brat who wants to look like they're something." 

Joshua really wanted to correct him — _But I'm fourteen! —_ but he knew the Fancy Rat would not care. He had to choose his next words wisely. Otherwise, it would be time to use that rake. 

"I mean, my friends! They might have food...! Sometimes they buy lunch, but sometimes they pack...!" Sweat plumed from his pores like miniature channels. If only he was as nervous as Principal Nash — the Fancy Rat would've slipped right off his neck. "Please...!" 

"Hmm?" The Fancy Rat turned, facing the Lab Rat with a toothy grin. "I suppose we have yet to apprehend the filth cowering in the principal's office, do we?" 

"Despite my best research," the Lab Rat said, "I lack the knowledge to open the door."

"Fruitless your studies may be, though we are not left without options." The Fancy Rat steered, stabbing through Joshua's heart with its icy pupils. "I believe this boy here will be an  _ excellent _ solution to that pesky doorknob, won't it?"

"This is true." The Lab Rat rubbed its wrinkled fingers together,  _ hoo-hoo _ ing in maniacal delight. "How unfortunate that none of our numbers are of average size, squeak! We would have scrambled beneath the doorframe a long time ago."

"N-Numbers?" Joshua did not like the sound of that — just how many monster rats were roaming the halls of Chipper Middle?

"Yes, numbers," the Fancy Rat spoke directly into Joshua's ear. "A king must have a kingdom. There are  _ hundreds  _ of us, and only  _ one _ of you, so I suggest you lead us to your friends already. Pray they have something for me to eat. Otherwise, you will all meet your doom."

"Uh..." The Lab Rat rose a single finger, his tongue sticking out from between his teeth. "And some for me, too. Or I'll pickle you and dissect you for my next  _ experiment,  _ squeak! _ " _

Joshua had no interest in getting experimental with the Lab Rat, so his mind was set. The Fancy Rat, satisfied with watching the glimmer in Joshua's eyes fade away, leapt back on the floor. Joshua rose to his feet, snagging the rake on his way up.

"O-Okay." Joshua wanted to cry, but his entire face was petrified with surreal terror. Being bossed around by overgrown vermin was a unique sort of psychological torture. "L-Let's go to the principal's office."

"Wahaha!" The Lab Rat cackled, flapping its white coat around like a pair of wings. "I told you the door problem would be small potatoes, squeak!"

"Cease your flavorful vocabulary! I now hunger for a side of Chicken Dinner fries!" They scampered along, their claws tapping on the floor tiles, as they flanked Joshua's legs. Filthy hairs brushed the gap between Joshua's pants and his sock. He wouldn't call the resulting sensation a  _ tickle. _ Perhaps  _ cringe-inducing scraping _ was a better way to describe it.

"I'm sorry, my king...!" the Lab Rat said. The three of them turned a corner, and there it was — the principal's office. Behind an opaque glass window, a faint light shone. Shadows waded back and forth, and Joshua knew that his friends had to be inside. "Look! We are here! Now demonstrate your door-opening capabilities to us, kid! My whiskers are trembling... I've never seen a phenomenon like this up close, squeak!"

"Indeed! The opening of the door, such a mystery, even to a ruler such as myself!" The Fancy Rat scoffed, pointing his nose into the air.  _ "Not! _ My servant, you are  _ much  _ too detail-oriented!"

"No, no! Please, describe every step! I'm begging you, squeak...!"

Joshua decided not to detail every ounce of his effort that went into twisting the doorknob. He could only regret that he was potentially endangering his friends — and prayed that any of them had food.

The door opened.

"Ah! A research opportunity gone to waste!" The Lab Rat spat a sizzling green glob on the ground. "Maybe next time."

Joshua stuck his head inside of the room, sending light flooding into his eyes. The principal's office was the only place in the school that wasn't brimming with darkness. In fact, it was lively — a mechanical growl sounded from the corner of the room without ceasing. That photocopier was a real dinosaur, clad with beige plastic. It spat out sheet music, one page after another. On the top of each was the name of Carter's band in gigantic capital letters.

Joshua shook his head. Had they  _ really _ decided on  _ Carter and the Try-Harders? _ It was a step up from  _ Grungy Garagemen, _ but...

Before he could mourn the deaths of any decent name options, there was movement. From behind Principal Nash's desk, three heads popped out. Recognizing Joshua, they sprung out, cautious smiles emerging on their faces.

"So you came inside? I found them." Carter jerked a thumb towards the other two and grinned. "Silas and Desmond... they're fine. Just hiding from the rats."

"Guys...!" The rest of Joshua's body remained outside the door. "Guys, there's..."

"Hey, Jay." Silas nodded, quietly chuckling to himself. He was a smooth talker for sure. Why did he insist on calling Joshua that nickname again? "We're chillin' in here. Gotta admit, things are scary out there, but..."

"J-Joshua! Get in here...!" Desmond's baritone voice was a huge contrast to Silas's gentle whispers. He held his hands against the sides of his black bowl cut as he sweated. "You know there's rats out there, right!? They'll eat us alive...!"

"And our music," Carter and Silas said. Their voices had synced — jinx! Were their identical concerns a side effect of being cousins? They certainly looked alike with their wild blond hair. The big difference was while Carter tried to be cool, Silas might've actually been.

"Guys, I'm..."

"Hear me, hear me!" The Fancy Rat shoved its way through the cracked door, emerging into the room. Joshua, Carter, and Desmond — all three of them yelped, and they didn't have to be family to match up there. 

Silas didn’t shout — he just shot his eyebrows up instead.

"This maroon-wearing lad has promised me food,” the Fancy Rat said. “In exchange for such a commodity, I shall grant you your freedom, fools."

"That's right...!" The Lab Rat was next, squeezing between Joshua's legs. "What do you have for  _ us!? _ I'm gagging for a bite, squeak!"

"Holy crap...!" Carter wasn't about to try to play off a couple of talking rats. "Hold on, I think I..."

Suddenly, he realized — he'd left his backpack at home.

"S-Silas?" Carter whimpered. "Do... Do...?"

"I..." Silas reached behind him, searching his backpack, yet his efforts were fruitless. He crammed his fingers into the pocket of his purple shirt — and there was no fruit there, either. There was no food at all. "I forgot my lunch... at home..."

Joshua almost felt like he could melt into the cracks in the floor. He'd lost the lunch lottery today, and now, Desmond was their only hope. The trembling boy was met with five pairs of desperate eyes, which did not do much to calm his nerves.

"Don't you know it's Friday...!?" Desmond aimed a pudgy finger at a nearby calendar. "Pizza day! I always buy from the cafeteria on Friday...!"

"No food!? Talk about a royal disappointment." The Fancy Rat scowled. The tension in the room tangible — Joshua felt like he could reach out and touch it. "Point at that calendar all you want.  _ Your days, too, are numbered." _

"And that number is  _ zero, _ squeak!" The Lab Rat hissed, gnashing its teeth together. "We'll get our food soon enough —  _ human flesh!" _

"H-Human flesh!? I think he's talking about us!" Desmond flung his head towards the photocopier. It continued to spit out sheet after sheet. "W-We gotta ditch the sheet music!"

"No... it's almost done...!" Carter waved his hands around. "I've been counting! Only two more copies to go...!"

The Fancy Rat had no reason to wait for the last freshly inked pages to emerge from the machine. It pounced, its dagger-like teeth primed to sink into Joshua's leg. With a shriek, he stumbled backwards, falling back into the hallway.

"Dinner's served! Today's main course — the bottom rung of the socioeconomic ladder!" Eager to get his first taste of class warfare, the Fancy Rat shot towards the fallen Joshua. With a grunt, he kicked at the oversized rodent, sending it flying back into the principal's office. It smacked against the desk with an unappetizing  _ splat. _

"Goodness me! What raw strength this boy has, squeak!" The Lab Rat, aghast, increased his distance from Joshua. “I had forgotten that I am a comparatively smaller creature...! What could this mean!?"

"It means our victory shall be ever the more glorious...!" The Fancy Rat scraped himself from the ground, its growling more intense than before. "Take out his filthy companions!"

"Filthy...!?" Carter protested, staring at the photocopier. It was still going.

"That's a lot more than two more copies left," Silas said. "Take what we have and let's go!"

As the Fancy Rat prepared itself for its next lunge, Carter, Silas, and Desmond all rocketed out of the room. The sheet music in their arms could not be contained — many papers went flying in the air behind them. As they fled, they kicked the Fancy Rat to the wall. Its cardboard crown crumpled and fell to the floor.

"You scum! Desecrating my crown...!?" The Fancy Rat eyed the Lab Rat and yelped. "You! Quit being useless!"

"I'm sorry, sir...! My strength is insufficient, squeak...!"

As Joshua took hold of the rake once again, his friends rushed towards him. They grabbed his hands, prying him up to his feet. They didn't have to tell him what to do next. The quartet sprinted around the corner, towards the front doors — escape was imminent.

Or so they had thought. As they saw the exit, sunlight shining in through the tinted glass windows, they skidded to a halt. Petrified, they examined what lay ahead of them. Little golden gleams. In pairs, they littered the stretch ahead. They didn't move, but they squeaked — oh, how they squeaked. The choir of jeering rodents was merciless. Though the Fancy Rat's henchmen were at least regular-sized, the sheer numbers of them were not comforting.

"W-Watch out...!" Joshua could just  _ hear _ the alarm bells going off in his head. Was that nothing more than his alarm clock, waking him up from a nightmare? He clenched his eyelids shut, then popped them open, but nothing had changed. No, this was real, and he wasn't going to be able to talk his way out of this one.

And then, the hideous noise of claws scraping against the tile floor. The four boys turned around, even though they knew what was coming. Following their trail of dropped sheet music were the Fancy Rat and the Lab Rat. They approached slowly — they had no reason to run — with wide frowns on their faces.

Whimpering, Carter, Silas, and Desmond dropped the photocopies that remained in their hands. They slumped to the ground, flurrying about, dashed like their hopes.

"You know, I could have my cronies tear you to shreds right now. But unlike you, I have honor." The Fancy Rat's pupils flicked up, towards his now bent and trampled crown. "You will make great examples for my people."

The ocean of rats, loyal to their king, cried out with joyous squeaks. Their cheers grated their ears, giving Joshua and his friends instantaneous migraines. Groaning, they clapped hands over their ears — which only made the rats even more excited.

"Our king will thoroughly defeat you now, squeak...!" The Lab Rat clapped his hands, blasting saliva as he howled with laughter. "I already know what the results will be for  _ this _ experiment...!"

"I recognize your faith," the Fancy Rat said, "but now is the time that you proved your worth."

The Lab Rat gagged.

"See, you have walked alongside me for long. Shy away from combat no longer, and prove to me your wealth of knowledge in combat. Show me your power!"

So that was how it was going to play out. Joshua was sorry it had come to this, and it didn't make him feel good, but he readied his rake. He hoped Jennifer didn't mind if it had rat hair on it when he was through. That was assuming he didn't faint during the upcoming battle and get eaten alive.

"J-Joshua." Carter nodded his head — his Frisbee was held in his hands. "We'll do whatever we can...!"

"Yeah, Jay." Silas patted Desmond on the back. "Won't we, Desmond?"

"Uhhhh..." Desmond began, but he was too stunned for words.

"Let's get a move on!" The Fancy Rat rose up to its two hind legs, sticking a bony finger forward. "Lab Rat! End their lives immediately! I'm hungry!"

"O-Of course, squeak..." The Lab Rat gawked up, looking at his four opponents. "And I don't get... help...?"

The Fancy Rat merely narrowed his gaze — a resounding  _ no. _

"I... I am going to need all the power I can get..." He paced back and forth, his wild white hair waving about, as he brainstormed. "But I'm simply outnumbered! I'll never be able to overcome them without some assistance, squeak...! Unless..."

Joshua could almost see the lightbulb appear above its head.

"Aha...! I'll have to get more power from a  _ power source!” _ The Lab Rat hummed to itself, marinating in intense consideration. "Now, with all my research in mind... what could I possibly use..."

He flipped his head around, searching the dark room for  _ anything _ at all to increase his chances. A dropped pencil? Doubtful. Scattered sheet music? Not even a good snack.

And then, he saw it. The Lab Rat cackled, its legs carrying him as fast as he could, until he arrived at it. It was on the wall, covered with white plastic. Surely he'd be able to sink his teeth into those holes.

"What is he doing...!?" Carter rose a single eyebrow.

"Now," the Lab Rat taunted, "you will face certain defeat, squeak! For I know the source of human power!  _ The power outlet!" _

He sunk his yellow-tinted teeth into its holes as if he were a plug. And sure enough, the Lab Rat was overcome with devastating power. Shaking and exploding with smoke, it waved about like a flag in a Category 5 hurricane. Everyone gasped — the Fancy Rat, his followers, Joshua and his friends. Their surprise could not stop the Lab Rat's ingenious maneuver.

The scientist screamed. It sounded something like ten pounds of chocolate pudding in a food processor. And then, the electrical outlet let go of the creature's teeth. Mega-charged with energy, it fell to the ground in a blackened heap.

Joshua wanted to cry, but mostly because of how awful the smell was.

"I... I concede," the Lab Rat said.

The crowd of rat underlings booed and hissed, scratching at the floor with restless nails. Joshua and his friends felt a different feeling — immense relief. It seemed they would not have to worry about becoming the Lab Rat's next test subjects.

"Bravo," the Fancy Rat sneered, "bravo. Of course, I'll have you know, electrocuting my second-in-command was just according to plan...! He... He was getting far too comfortable in his position of power, y-yes. All according to plan, indeed."

"What crap!" Carter let a short giggle loose — seeing the Lab Rat getting fried was just enough to stifle his fears. "Any more of your  _ royal subjects _ want to try to kill themselves!?"

"Any volunteers?" the Fancy Rat called out to the crowd of rodents. Even Joshua was annoyed enough to shoot Carter an exasperated scowl. Desmond went as far as lunging and slapping a hand over Carter’s mouth.

"Not cool." Silas gave a faint sigh and shook his head. It was hard to hear his complaint over the uproarious choir of shrieking rats. Their golden eyes bobbed about, weaving left and right — a starry sky in jumbles. There was no escaping through them, even though the front doors were only a few feet away. Principal Nash did not watch through the windows, and perhaps that was a good thing. If he saw the plethora of pests raving in the school's front hallway, he would have probably gone comatose.

"You want to eat them?" The Fancy Rat let out a snort, sending two slimy boogers onto the ground. "I may be able to arrange that. Yet hear my decree! I hold the crown — I am your king! So first, I must remind you... of my sovereign strength!"

"Oh, no..." Desmond collapsed to his knees. "Why is fate so cruel!?" And then, he passed out, slapping his face against the tile floor. Joshua gasped, surprised that he hadn't already done the same thing.

"Desmond...!" Joshua felt his cheeks go numb. Carter and Silas rushed down, squatting at his sides. It was no use — Desmond, the studious student, now only studied the back of his eyelids.

"By words alone, I have slain the first human beast!" The Fancy Rat lumbered forward, its tail swishing about like a viper. "But actions speak louder than words. Who will be the first to go deaf?"

"Jay. Carter." Silas didn't look up from his unconscious friend, but concern was evident in his voice. This was the most distressed they'd ever heard him, yet he was somehow still keeping his cool. "You know what'll happen if we don't stop him, right?"

"They'll..." Joshua whimpered. "They'll eat us...!" He held his rake in front of him, desperately flailing it back and forth. The Fancy Rat paused, keeping a cautious distance — but it couldn't stop him forever. How was Joshua going to explain it to his mother if he got beaten up by a fat rat monarch? She wouldn't let him go to school for the rest of the year.

"My resolve is iron! Yours is molding wood!" The Fancy Rat suddenly spat, pouncing around the rake's teeth. "Whose will be the first to collapse?"

"You know what!?" Carter wiped the sweat from his forehead — his teal headband could no longer contain it all. "This is  _ not _ how I'm going out! Listening to some square of a rat yammer on about metaphors!?"

He cranked his arm back, priming his Frisbee for a most glorious throw. Joshua's eyes could barely open any further, yet his friend's battle pose convinced them to.

"We're  _ Carter and the Try-Harders, _ and we're not dying until we're old and rich and famous! Eat plastic!" He shot the orange disc ahead, right at the Fancy Rat's head.

"Why, I...!" The hideous creature had no chance to complete its sentence. Its mouth was soon acquainted with Carter's Frisbee. The force of Carter's throw sent the Fancy Rat tumbling backwards —until it flipped onto its back.

"Sick," Silas said.

"Let's get him!" Carter pumped a fist. "We can't let ourselves lose!"

"Sorry, man," Silas said, "you know I'm a pacifist."

The rat crowd bellowed, throwing their best insults at the humans. Joshua would not be demoralized — he didn't bother trying to understand them. The only thing he understood now was that now was the time to  _ act. _ He'd tried talking it through, offering food, but that all had failed. And if this Fancy Rat was going to try to eat his friends, then he could not stand by idly any longer.

He rushed ahead, ready to swing Jennifer's rake.

"Ptah...!" The Fancy Rat spat out Carter's Frisbee — it was now covered in a brand-new coat of green saliva. "This poor-people cookie tastes  _ horrible! _ What a travesty, seeing how classless the cuisine of the impoverished has become! If only they would eat each other...!" He rolled onto his back — but his crown had fallen to the ground.

"I'll just..." The Fancy Rat reached over, eager to slap its cardboard crown back onto his head. Before he could, Joshua had come close enough to strike. He closed his eyes, hoping his mother would forgive him for getting into a fight, and then swung.

_ Whap! _

"Noooo!" the Fancy Rat yelped. If Joshua had been playing golf, it would have been bad practice to not shout  _ fore. _ The Fancy Rat went sailing into the depths of the dark hallways, out of sight, out of mind. The crowd of rats gasped — and a  _ thud _ replied to them.

Joshua, with heavy breaths, dropped Jennifer's rake to the ground. He stumbled against the wall, holding himself up against it. He felt so light-headed. All those intense emotions had really thrown him into overdrive. Fear, sadness, anger — but had they finally paid off with victory?

"Minions...!" The Fancy Rat's voice emanated from the distance. "Now it is time for you to eviscerate these heretics! I command it of you!"

Joshua, Carter, and Silas winced. So this was how it ended. Despite all their efforts, the countless numbers of henchmen would finish them off. They flipped their heads, anticipating a rushing horde of rats — but they did not move. Their glimmering eyes remained, uncertain, unconvinced.

"You have pledged your allegiance to the crown...!" There was a sound of a popping joint, followed by an intense groan. "Why do you...!?"

Joshua, still battling to regain his breath, slumped closer to the ground. He took in the sights of the battlefield — the scattered sheet music, the gashes in the tile. And then, the Fancy Rat's crown itself. A standard freebie with any  _ Chicken Dinner _ kid's meal.

"Joshua..." Carter pointed. Joshua could only nod. They both had the same thought. It was a stretch, but they'd both seen the advertisements.

Joshua toddled over, bent down, and plucked the cardboard crown from the ground.

"Of course," Silas said with a cheeky grin. "Anyone can be a king with  _ Chicken Dinner..." _

And then, Joshua put the crown on his head.


	5. Roger's Upset

"Yep, that's right. With nothing but my bare fists. That principal's a total square, you know. Of _course_ he'd shut down the school if I threatened him." Roger pounded his knuckles against a bare hand — and he only winced _slightly._ "Mhm."

"R-Roger?" A voice from the crowd of students around him. It was a sixth-grade girl, one who sounded half curious and half terrified. "So that means no school ever again?"

"Well, let's not push our luck. I can't go around enforcing _every_ day of the week. So just today, yeah, but you better believe that there won't be a lick of school today. Not even a single second...!"

As if they had heard Roger's words, the front doors of the school flew open. With _clangs,_ their metal handles hit brick walls — and the floodgates burst open. Principal Nash, still standing in front of the entrance, had his blubbering brought to a swift end. When he saw what was coming, he could only scream instead.

Rats. An entire sea of them. They were brown, black, and grey — but most of all, they were coming fast. Principal Nash, too, decided he had no choice but to run. So he did, fleeing the stampede of squeaking vermin. Risa, squatting on the front steps, also burst up to her feet. Her binder clattered to the ground and she held two fingers to her forehead. The rodents paid her no mind. They just rocketed on through.

The students and teachers outside all burst into instantaneous panic. Rats poured into their ranks, slithering between their legs and under their feet. And then, the monsoon of chattering rats came to an end. The swiftest ones vanished first, hopping into sewer grates and tufts of grass. The stragglers were next — the old and fat ones, panting like dogs. They carried the unconscious bodies of the Lab Rat and the Fancy Rat with them. Even in defeat, they still held their leaders above them.

"W-What the...!?" Roger's arms drooped. Whenever he went to the principal's office, the school always ratted on him. But this was the first time that the school... had _ratted_ on him. "What's happening here...?"

Again, a challenge to his words emerged from the school doors. They stepped out of the darkness of Chipper Middle School, into the light. Carter, Silas, and Desmond, the remains of their sheet music copies in their hands. They shook their heads, entrapped in relieved laughter — they'd just gotten out of a real bad fix. Ahead of them all, a new warrior had been crowned king. When Roger realized who it was, his face nearly twisted like a side of Chicken Dinner curly fries.

It was Joshua Dowell, wearing a cardboard crown atop his head. Though he remained pale, a warm smile had crawled onto his face. Roger growled — his own happiness was being sapped away.

Everyone went quiet, turning towards them. Joshua gulped.

"We... We stopped them. And I told them to go away."

An awkward silence — no one was quite sure what exactly _that_ meant.

"And..." Joshua took the crown off his head and shrugged. "I guess that means school's on?"

A few cheers rang out in the crowd — though only from teachers and some kids with thick-rimmed glasses. For everyone else, there were only grumbles and sighs. It had been an exciting morning, romping around in the field and being swarmed by rats. But now, it was back to the same old daily grind. Classwork and chalkboards. At the very least, it was a Friday. Only one more day until the weekend finally arrived.

And so, the crowd began to disperse. They filed up, entering the school's front doors. Even Principal Nash returned, drenched with sweat and continuing to shake. Joshua peered down at his watch, only to find that school was starting right on schedule. That was a relief to him. He did not know _what_ he would do if he wound up with a tardy slip.

Joshua turned around and went into the school again, and he did so with blissful ignorance. He did not know if his classmates would appreciate his expulsion of the rats. He was unsure why those pests had even come to Chipper Middle School to begin with. And he certainly did not realize that Roger Sophar was burning holes in the back of his head with furious eyes.

"Wow, nice lies, Roger." A boy walked away, shaking his head. "So much for _threatening the principal_ and all that."

"Can't believe it was just a rat problem..."

"What a load of baloney!"

"No, wait!" Roger reached out, as if trying to drag his less-than-adoring fans back to him, but it was no use. His facade had been exposed. His ruse had been shattered. And who was responsible for that?

The kid in the maroon jacket, that was who.

"That brat..." Roger tightened a fist. "So that's how it's going to be, huh? Making me look like... some kind of _square?_ I'm not a square!"

That was true — if anything, he was more like a triangular prism. A square was not a good shape, as far as Roger was concerned. And when he was finished with Joshua, well...

He was not going to be in good shape, either.

 

* * * * *

 

"Well, class, that was certainly an _exciting_ morning, but it's good to be back on schedule, isn't it?"

The students did not reply. Most of them even frowned, too. But for Joshua, getting to first period English had been a relief. He was all about punctuality, and it was a miracle that the rat incident hadn't delayed his day too much. He had even been the first to show up to Ms. Dufrane's classroom, even when worn out from dealing with talking animals all morning. His composition book and a pair of pencils lay in front of him, ready for use. 

Joshua hoped that getting back to the daily grind would be a good thing. All around the room, students gawked at him — Silas and Desmond and many more. It seemed that everyone was still in awe, imagining him wearing the cardboard crown. It wasn't on his head. Joshua had tossed it in the trash because of its unbearable odor. Even still, they stared as if he were a king. Even Ms. Dufrane watched him intently from her desk, shaking her head.

"Are we paying attention, young man...?"

"Yes, Ms. Dufrane." Joshua smiled. He glanced to his left, at an empty desk. That was where Roger usually sat, but he was absent. Jennifer and her sister, too, were nowhere to be found. He hoped she showed up. Beside his desk, Jennifer’s rake lay on the ground — he intended to return it as soon as possible. He’d surely feel bad if he forgot.

"Oh, of course you’re paying attention, Joshua." Ms. Dufrane smiled back, and Joshua almost wanted to giggle. "No, I'm talking about your friend. Behind you?"

"Oh." Joshua cranked his neck around. Sure enough, Carter was staring out into space, daydreaming about who-knew-what. If Joshua had to guess, it was likely those two singer girls from Marteen he never stopped talking about. It was a fortunate place for him to sit, really. The teacher was usually far too perceptive, but every now and then, he had the chance to cheat on a test. Not that Joshua ever endorsed it.

"Mr. Daudelynn!" Ms. Dufrane clapped her hands together — and just like that, Carter snapped out of his daze. "Are you sleeping today? I'd hate it if you fell asleep during my lesson..."

Her eyes shot over, only to see Risa's barely-open eyes fluttering in the back of the room. Ms. Dufrane didn't say anything to that.

"Huh...!?" Carter's head spasmed as he returned to reality. "Huh? Past participle of what?"

"I guess that answers my question." Ms. Dufrane stood up from her chair, striding over to the chalkboard. With her dark red dress and her orange hair, it was as if autumn itself had painted her with its colors.  "Class, you remember what happens tomorrow, correct?"

"Saturday." Joshua's ears perked up at that technically correct answer. Sure, they weren't wrong, but he knew that couldn't have been the intended solution.

"Other than that!" Ms. Dufrane laughed as she swirled around. Snatching a piece of chalk, she went right to scraping it against the blackboard. Her work appeared — a short doodle of the moon, then another of the sun. "Does that give you a hint?"

"That New-Earther parade through Grocken County?" another student suggested.

"New-Earthers, huh...? Let's leave _politics_ out of it." Ms. Dufrane kept going, writing great capital letters under those celestial bodies. _Eclipse._ "That's right, the solar eclipse. The moon's orbit will cause it to block the sun completely. And just like that, it'll seem like it's night. Today, we'll be reading an old myth, a story from when an eclipse happened in ancient times."

"When Gaphila was around...?" Joshua said. When he realized he had forgotten to raise his hand, his face immediately went red.

"Precisely!" Ms. Dufrane grinned.

"Right." Joshua scribbled down a line of notes, eager to take in every ounce of information. "I like to watch the show, uh, _Knights of Gaphila."_

"Hm. The books were better, you know."

"There were books...?" Joshua could not believe his ears, but Ms. Dufrane had already returned her attention to the chalkboard.

"As the old story goes, there was once a great temple, a temple where wise old men would gather. Maybe you've heard about that, too?"

"I... I know this one...!" This time, it was Desmond, blubbering on the other side of the classroom. "It's still there! That rickety old place just north of town...!"

"It's nearby...?" Carter's interest in the lesson skyrocketed in the blink of an eye. He leaned ahead, as if ready to spring out of his seat. "Abandoned temples? Field trip?"

"No, it's gated off by the local government, you know," Ms. Dufrane said.

"Mayor Gates, darn you..." Seething, Carter's posture slumped once more. Joshua could not share his disinterest — hearing about _Gaphilan_ history was good enough for him, field trip or not.

Before Ms. Dufrane could speak another word, there was a sudden _slam._ It was so loud, most of the class rattled in their seats. Only Risa, now sound asleep, was spared from the surprise. Pairs of eyes floated over to the classroom door and were met with a dreadful sight. Beneath his dirty brown boots, drywall powder sprinkled the ground. His twitching fingers grasped the doorknob. The wall sported a new dent from Roger's assault on the door, but even it looked better than he did. Red eyes, a furrowed brow, and greasy hair. Those summed up Roger's appearance, though few students were surprised. That was how he looked half the time anyway. 

Joshua, though he was frightened, managed to turn around. Their eyes locked instantly — Joshua’s confusion and Roger’s fury. That boiling anger was enough to force Joshua to face the other way again. Out of all the students to show up tardy, it had to be him.

"Oh, there you are, Roger." Ms. Dufrane shook her head and set down her piece of chalk. "Well, you're not too late. I was just getting ready to introduce today's lesson. Take your seat, and for your tardy — lunch in the janitor's closet."

"Whatever." Roger wandered over to his desk, and Joshua could've sworn he dropped a swear word in there, too. The greasy-headed brute plopped down, right in the desk next to him. Joshua peeked over, watching Roger's bloodshot eyes stare right back at him.

"Uh..." A roll of sweat rolled down Joshua's face.

"What's that, Joshua...?" Carter tapped his friend's shoulder about five more times than necessary. "Hey, can you loan me a pencil? Think I forgot mine at home. Just like everything else in my backpack."

Joshua only nodded silently as he yanked a spare pencil from his pocket. He passed it back to Carter — only to notice that Roger was _still_ glaring. Those erratic pupils of his were like black holes, swirling, sucking the heat out of Joshua's spine. Chills ran down his back, and not even his coffee-scented jacket could make him feel warm.

"Today, we'll be reading from your textbooks. Go to page seventy-two, where you'll find the _Legend of the Eclipse._ We'll be looking at a Gaphilan myth, where monsters borne of the sun and moon's crossing attacked the temple...! Exciting, isn't it? I think it is. It's my favorite lesson to teach, you know..."

Murmuring, everyone pulled out their textbooks — except for Carter, of course. He scooted forward and prepared to read over Joshua's shoulder without a word. With a short sigh, Joshua pulled his own book from his backpack and flipped it open. Page seventy-two — there it was, their day's assignment. Joshua tried to focus on the first word of the first sentence. It rumbled in front of him, refusing to hold still. Joshua rubbed his eyes, then looked again. No luck — he lacked all focus.

_No problem here,_ Joshua thought, though he knew that wasn't true. Something was irking him, begging him to drag his eyes away. He knew what it was. He could feel it, Roger's eyes, engulfed with crimson lightning. Did he continue to stare? Or had he long since quit? That question tantalyzed Joshua, though he _knew_ he couldn't look at him again. What if Roger _was_ staring? What if he _did_ say something? No, Joshua vowed to himself — he would not look.

Joshua's head whirled over, shattering his promise immediately. Sure enough, Roger kept beaming him down with those rumbling eyes. This time, Joshua could not pry his gaze away — no, he was trapped in his own fear.

"So." Roger finally spoke. It was a single word, yet one that filled Joshua with worries. What was it that Roger was so shaken up about? Being forced to eat lunch in the janitor's closet? At least there would be peace and quiet in there. "I told everyone that I made Principal Nash close the school. But you proved me wrong, and _embarrassed_ me, in front of _everyone."_

"I...!" Joshua wanted to panic, but the teacher was nowhere nearby to help him. Ms. Dufrane had returned to her desk, littering poorly written essays with red pen marks. "I didn't mean to...!"

"Huh? What's that about...?" Carter clapped a hand down on Joshua's shoulder and frowned. "Joshua just helped stop the rats, that's all. It's _your_ fault for making up crap, Roger."

Joshua waved his hands — he did _not_ want this situation to escalate. One big conflict was enough for him today.

"And I'm sure Joshua would agree." Carter gave a _hmph_ and a smug nod.

"So that's what you think, huh?" Roger stuck a fat pointer finger at Joshua, aimed right at his heart. "You think I appreciate getting indirectly snitched on? No, I _hate_ it."

Oh, and of course, the rest of the class had already burst into idle conversation. Ms. Dufrane never minded a little bit of chit-chat while they worked. That was usually a good thing. But now, all the way over at her desk, she was oblivious to Roger's accusations. Joshua wanted to raise his hand and ask to go to the bathroom — but how would Roger react?

"I..." Joshua swallowed. "I'm sorry..."

"Yeah, I bet you are. Quit looking at the teacher like that. What are you, a tattletale? Leave her out of this."

Joshua squirmed in his seat. He had tried apologizing, and that hadn't been enough. What else was there to do, then? Let Roger vent? Carter didn't look so happy, either — his face looked as maroon as Joshua's jacket.

"Watch it." Carter's nose scrunched up, showcasing a collection of creases. His eyebrows ascended past his headband, bent in anger. "You should watch it."

"Watch what? Your stupid friend here? He looks like he needs to pee." Roger snorted in delight. Joshua, suddenly self-conscious of his trembling, tried to hold himself still. It didn't work. He had faced talking rats, yet this was still so terrifying. Being confronted by another person — not some chattering rodent, a _human_ being.

Joshua couldn't speak.

"Still speechless, huh?" Roger said. "Little Joshua, kicked all the rats out of the school. Oh, wait, you missed one. Yourself. What're going to do, tattle? Tell the teacher? Tell your _mommy?"_

"Please," Joshua begged, "don't talk abo—"

"Don't what?" Roger's interruption jutted in like a dagger. "Your mom? She's a little on the young side, isn't she? Maybe I could be your new dad?"

Joshua's shaking arms only increased in speed. Carter watched on, speechless, frozen in his spot. He was watching an assault — and he could not find the courage to intervene.

"How old was she when _you_ were born, anyway? Eighteen? And she took care of you all by herself. She probably thinks you're a huge waste of time. Now she's stuck at that crappy barbershop. Don't you think she'd be better off if you hadn't been _born?"_

"I... I don't know...!" Joshua's eyelids fluttered, desperately trying to hold back those first tears. He could not let them loose — if Roger saw them, then he'd look weak.

But Joshua knew the answer to the question, and even though he was lying, he did not cross his fingers. Maybe it was because Roger kept a close watch behind Joshua's back. Maybe it was because Joshua was trying to lie to himself, too.

"Trying so hard to keep you safe. One of these days, you'll run off and get yourself killed, I bet. Then how will she feel?"

Joshua did not want to suffer through any more of Roger's questions. What he wanted to do was raise his hand, to beg for the teacher's help. But he _couldn't_ do that. If he did, then he would be nothing more than a tattletale. A snitch. A square. And then, Roger would never stop pestering him about it. Every day would be just like this one, even though Joshua hadn't done _anything_ wrong, and...

A hand shot up in the air. Roger's eyes bulged as he smacked the top of his desk — but it was not Joshua's arm lifted high above their heads. Ms. Dufrane, finished with grading another stack of papers, moved it aside. She noticed Carter shortly afterwards.

"Yes, Carter?" she said.

"Hey, Roger's tormenting my friend, can you get rid of him please?" Carter's face remained red, painted with hues of frustration. "He's making fun of him and his mom and stuff."

Joshua turned around, gawking at Carter. His headband-wearing friend only nodded his head in response.

"You _snitches...!"_ Roger leapt up to his feet, swinging his arms. "Why, I really should come over there and...!"

"Roger!" Ms. Dufrane smacked her hands together, and the clap that rang out was ear-piercing. Roger's fists loosened, though he continued to growl. "That alone is uncalled for. Go give Principal Nash a visit at once. I won't tolerate physical threats in the classroom...! Or anywhere!"

Once again, Joshua had the entire room's attention. Carter and Roger, both close to erupting. Silas and Desmond, flabbergasted. Even Risa awoke from her slumber, though she was only _slightly_ conscious.

Roger had nothing else to do. With a huff, he spat a loogie on the tile floor as he scooted back over to the classroom door. Into the hallway he went, but before his second foot strode outside, he turned one last time.

"Mess with me one more time, Joshua, and you're dead."

And then, he was gone — just a hothead trekking down the hallway. Joshua wondered if Roger would be able to threaten Principal Nash into letting him off the hook. He highly doubted it.

"Well, then." Ms. Dufrane took the deepest breath she could muster, then let it all back out. "Wow. _What_ a morning. If everyone's okay, then... I suppose we'll resume our work."

She returned to her desk, though she peered back at the doorway twice or thrice before she sat down. Grabbing her red pen, she went right back to scribbling on the piles of homework.

It was easy for _her_ to get back into things. Even the other students around the classroom eventually stopped watching Joshua. They went back to doing their assigned reading, flipping through page after page.

But Joshua couldn't focus after _that._

"Th-There he goes..." Joshua winced, wiping the sweat off his forehead.

"Yep." Carter sighed, gritting his teeth. "You should've told the teacher, you know."

"But that would've made me a snitch. Roger said that..."

"Since when do we listen to what _he_ says? Of course he'd say that, he just doesn't want to get in trouble."

"R-Right." The more Joshua thought about that, the more he realized how obvious it was. "Sorry."

"Don't apologize to me," Carter said, "I'm supposed to keep you out of trouble when you can't, right? Roger can go eat out of my cat’s litterbox.”

“Well…” Joshua tapped his pencil against the desk twice.

“He probably already does, if those nasty teeth mean anything.”

Joshua held back a snort. The idea of Roger on all fours, fishing freshly-lain turds out of a plastic container was nothing short of hilarious. Even so, he didn’t reply. That joke had been just enough to help him get back to his reading. Joshua pushed Roger out of his mind, focusing on that _Legend of the Eclipse_ in his textbook instead. It was a story about a grand battle, just like in _Knights of Gaphila_ , and Joshua could always appreciate those.

Those enormous fights that transpired on pages and the screen never failed to entertain Joshua. But even the smallest skirmishes out in the world — now those were torturous. Even a few minutes of dealing with Roger had been like facing down a monster. Joshua was glad, then, that the myths of Gaphila only existed in fiction. In struggles like those, he never would have stood a chance.


	6. Cafeteria Chaos

"Well, Jennifer took Taylor's shoes, we know that." Desmond put his story on pause, wolfing down another bite of his cafeteria pizza. He did not count to twenty before swallowing, but at least he was enjoying it. "And... And, well, as it turns out... Taylor stole those shoes too! Ha! Can you believe that! She stole them from their  _ mom...!" _

"And  _ she _ needed them for an important business meeting," Silas said. With a sly smile, he sipped from his can of fruit juice. Like his voice, it danced through his throat, smooth and cool. "That's why the Briggs Sisters didn’t show up to English class..."

"Meaning that  _ Joshua _ still has to haul around that rake!" Carter snickered between bites of his ham sandwich. Smacking his lips, he moved on to a bag of chips, tearing it right open. His bottle of water stood by, ignored, waiting to be opened.

It was unfortunate — Joshua's mother was the only one who hadn't brought him his forgotten lunch. They sat, a group of four, at a round table at the edge of the cafeteria. Conversations blurred together, filling the cheese-scented air with the din of syllable soup. The ranks of students stayed locked in the eyes of the lunch lady, her ladle held at her side. This was her kingdom, a land of subpar food and table talk.

Joshua's stomach growled. He could barely hear it over Carter's frantic laughter. The only thing he had to eat now was Jennifer's rake, and he doubted it would taste any better with ketchup. And it had already been lying on the floor for more than five seconds, too.

"How is Jennifer ever going to get her rake back now...?" Joshua's frown only went deeper as another pang of hunger zipped through his gut. This time, the growl was audible enough. Carter, Silas, and Desmond — they all heard it.

"Uh, here." Carter scooted his shiny chip bag across the table. "Have some of these chips."

"Yeah, sorry about your lunch, Jay," Silas said. "You can have some of my grapes if you want."

"A-And my broccoli!" Desmond grimaced just from saying that accursed word. "The broccoli here is real nasty! It's slimy and I have to wash it down with chocolate milk. Uh, not that I want  _ you _ to eat nasty food. It's not  _ that _ bad...!"

Joshua didn't say anything.

"You think I'm trying to give you nasty food. No. I'm not. I'll prove it, and keep half of the broccoli. So there."

Chips, grapes, and a half-portion of broccoli — it was all pushed over to Joshua. He smiled, happy that his friends were offering him a bite to eat. He hadn't even asked. But this had been the first day ever that his mother hadn't dropped his lunch off at the principal's office. Not that it was her responsibility — he knew  _ he _ had forgotten it.

"You're faking that smile...!" Desmond wiped a deluge of sweat from his forehead. "You still think the broccoli is nasty? I wasn't trying to make you mad! Here, have that broccoli  _ and _ my chocolate milk! Now you can wash it down, okay!?"

"Thanks, Desmond," Joshua said, "but I didn't..."

His protests were useless. The carton of chocolate milk came sliding Joshua's way, coming to a stop with the rest of his food.

"Oh, man! Now  _ I _ don't have something to wash down my half of the broccoli with! How am I going to eat it now!?"

"Hey, calm down, dude." Silas passed over what was left of his can of juice. "Have some of this. You won't even be able to taste that broccoli. I guess I can get a drink after lunch."

"Oh, you can have mine, then." Carter swatted his bottle of water aside, sending it rolling over to Silas. "I don't drink water."

"And, I..." Joshua had his first bite of the broccoli. Both his hunger and his mood were immediately improved. "I kinda like broccoli, so I don't really need this chocolate milk."

"Okay, then I'll have it." Carter snagged the carton, popped it open, and chugged away. The four boys chewed and sipped, enjoying the rewards of their sensible trades. The table was at peace.

"Well, uh..." Desmond snagged a few pieces of the broccoli with his fork, then stuffed them in his mouth. The way his cheeks puffed out, it looked as if he was about to gag. He defused the situation with a big gulp of juice, then swallowed the whole mess with a grunt. "So what was happening during English class, anyway?"

"Oh, yeah. That's a good question," Silas said. "It looked like Roger was getting all riled up about something."

Upon the mention of  _ Roger, _ Joshua's little smile began to sag. He didn't want to think about what happened in first period, let alone talk about it. 

“You seem kind of nervous, Joshua,” Carter said. “Why don’t you have a sip of my chocolate milk? It’ll calm you down, and I promise not to make you laugh.”

“A-Alright.” Joshua took a swig of his chocolate milk — a mouth full of liquid would be a good excuse not to speak.

"Back to Roger." Carter snickered, sandwich crumbs falling from his mouth. "Of course he was getting riled up. Didn't you smell it? He crapped his diaper again."

It really wasn't that funny. It was immature, without nuance — heck, it was even  _ stupid. _ But even though it wasn't funny, it still made Joshua laugh. With a mouth full of chocolate milk, he didn't hold back. It shot from his nostrils, spraying the cafeteria table like a garden hose. Chips, grapes, and broccoli alike were washed down with the beverage. Nothing about the process made them more palatable.

"Whoa...!" Carter, Silas, and Desmond alike all backed away from the table. It seemed they didn't want to dip their elbows into the pool of regurgitated dairy products. Joshua's laugh was cut short in an instant as he saw the consequences of his actions. It was a lake of chocolate, and it oozed towards every corner of the table. The first drips went dropping to the ground, spreading like a contagion. If Joshua was ever going to cry over spilled milk, now was the time to do it. He had already become as red as the pizza sauce on Desmond's dropped jaw.

"Oh, no." Joshua's words had gone faint. "This... This is..."

_ "This is the biggest doggone mess that I ever seen in my whole life...!" _

Joshua hadn't remembered his conscience's voice being so deep and growly, but he was willing to accept that change. Still, it didn't explain why all his friends were staring towards the wall.

"Guys...?"

_ "The biggest, most messiest doggone mess ever!" _

A horrifying epiphany — that voice was  _ very _ real. Joshua's head flung around, facing the same beast his friends did. It was the lunch lady, her fists curled within a pair of cheap plastic gloves. Her teeth scraped against each other, jittering, sanding themselves down.

"You kids, going and squirting milk  _ all over _ my tables!? See, this is why I hate my job. You brats have no respect for my  _ craft!  _ Cafeteer-ing is an art, one that you wouldn't understand. And spraying  _ beverages _ about my stuff... _ " _

Joshua, Carter, Silas, and Desmond. They were all trapped within the same hellish dimension of fear. To not understand the intricacies of managing a middle school cafeteria — they were truly know-nothings. Their ignorance bore down on their souls. But the weight pressed most upon Joshua's shoulders.

Milk spewing, guilty as charged.

"It was  _ you,  _ wasn't it?” She pointed his soup ladle right at Joshua’s face. “What were you  _ thinking,  _ kid!?"

“I… I didn’t…!” Joshua wasn’t sure what to say. It wasn’t as if he made the conscious decision to spray down everything in his immediate vicinity. He could only gulp and swallow what little milk remained in his mouth.

“Listen here.” The lunch lady squatted down, bringing herself face-to-face with Joshua. He could see every last wrinkle that haunted her face. “This is where I put my foot down. No — this is where I put my  _ rag _ down. And I want  _ you _ to pick it up.”

She reached into her pocket, revealing a rag more tattered than Principal Nash’s self-confidence. With a  _ splat, _ she dropped it into Joshua’s chocolate nasal spray. Carter, Silas, and Desmond all gasped. Their utter shock would not be enough to change their friend’s fate.

“Now,” the lunch lady said, “I seem to have forgotten my bottle of cleaner in the janitor’s closet. Why don’t you mosey on over there and get it for me? And don’t try to make any more messes along the way. If you do, I’ll make you clean those up, too! Now skedaddle!”

Joshua was reluctant, but he was not slow. He skedaddled as the lunch lady had ordered, not daring to defy her will for even a moment. From the corner of the eye, he could see it — each of his friends held a sheepish expression of regret. Their pained frowns only deepened as the lunch lady plopped down into Joshua’s empty seat. He could only hope that she did not try to spit in his lunch.

“Janitor’s closet,” Joshua said to himself. He strode past tables after tables of chattering children, many of which watched his onward march. He could only hope his mother didn’t hear about his chocolate milk explosion. The embarrassment would be brutal.

Just as he considered that, he stepped upon a banana peel and went flying. His back cracked as he hit the tile floor. Groaning, he peered up, looking at the mostly empty table nearby. With a green hood draped over her head, Risa stared at him. She looked as if she needed about five thousand hours of sleep.

“Glad to see you’re having a great fall,” she hissed.

“Was… Was that yours?” Joshua lifted the banana peel from the ground and set it on her table. There was plenty of room for it — no one else dared to sit with her.

“If you’re asking if it was on purpose, obviously not. I wanted to eat chocolate chip cookies, but  _ Mom _ says I have to eat fruit.” She scoffed as Joshua crawled back up from the floor. “Rolling around in the cafeteria grime. Didn’t you fight off a bunch of rats or something…? And the  _ floor _ can still beat you in a fight.”

Joshua really had no desire to be insulted any longer, not if that lunch lady was still harassing his friends and awaiting his return. Dusting off his pants, he abandoned Risa, heading straight for the janitor’s closet. The last thing he wanted was more trouble.

“Don’t interrupt my nap again, Exterminator Boy…!” Risa’s words faded in the distance behind him as he passed through the doorway. There he was, in the janitor’s closet. It was barely lit with a single bulb, casting enough light to see the shelves scattered about. There were enough cleaners to form an entire maid service. Window cleaner, floor cleaner, general cleaner, shampoo, conditioner, and toothpaste.

“General cleaner,” Joshua said. That almost sounded like someone who’d served in the military, but he figured it was a better bet than toothpaste. He reached for it, but before he could grab it, he noticed something else. A boy was sitting in the corner. Perched on a stool, his arms were crossed and his brow furrowed. A plastic tray was in his lap, holding a single piece of cafeteria pizza. Not a single bite had been taken out of it. He had been too busy feeding on his lust for revenge.

He was staring right at Joshua, and he sure didn’t look happy.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in.” Roger shoved his tray of food onto a nearby shelf. Hopping off the stool, his soles smacked against the tile floor. He snarled as his fingers twisted into fists. “It’s a rat that’s really,  _ extremely _ close to being a dead splat on the ground.”

“R-Roger…!” Joshua had completely forgotten about Roger’s lunch detention being in  _ here. _ It looked as if grabbing the bottle and leaving wouldn’t be so easy now. But he wouldn’t go down without trying. Joshua turned to the door, the general cleaner within his hands — only to feel Roger grab the back of his maroon jacket. He was locked in place now. He dropped the bottle of cleaner to the floor.

“Help…!” Joshua shouted — before a hand slipped over his mouth, too.

“You’re such a square. Calling for help? Really?” Roger brought his lips closer to Joshua’s ear. “You know what you did. You made me look like an idiot in front of everyone. And then, you got me stuck in this closet for lunch. What do you think you should get in return? Some sort of snack…? How about a  _ knuckle sandwich?” _

In that moment, squirming in Roger’s grasp, Joshua felt as if the world itself was out to get him. Moths and rats and chocolate milk and banana peels… not one thing was going his way. Here he was now, on the verge of panic. He could no longer cry for help. He could no longer run for his life. And just as it seemed everything was going wrong, one last saving grace happened. It was a miracle, one he never expected to happen. Someone else walked into the janitor’s closet.

“Hey…! Exterminator Boy!” It was Risa, her hood still draped over her head. With bloodshot eyes, she stared both Joshua and Roger down. “I’m trying to take a nap out there, and I hear you screaming! I was  _ so _ close to falling asleep.”

Joshua tried to reply, but only mumbling could be heard through Roger’s hand.

“Oh.” Risa rolled her eyes and looked up at Roger. “Hey, why’re you manhandling him? I know he has a shrill voice and all, but that’s a little… much.”

“Get out of here. You’re a teacher’s pet square, just like he is. Get out of here.” He reached for his nearby lunch tray and took a bite of his pizza. “Go ahead. I can tell by your weird haircut that it’s time for you to come out of the closet.”

“...Hilarious. Flippin’ hilarious.” Though she sounded apathetic, she shoved her bangs farther away from her right eye. “I don’t know. Maybe I should just go tell everyone that you’re beating up little boys in here. Wouldn’t that be a scene?”

“If you do it, I’ll have to give him the ol’ Roger Drop-Slam.” Roger wrapped an arm around Joshua’s waist, making him doubly uncomfortable. He wasn’t sure what the Roger Drop-Slam was, but the verbiage didn’t leave much to the imagination. Joshua tried to scream for help again. His words were once again drowned out.

“Do what you want, Pizza Face.” Risa backed away, retreating to the door. The smirk on her face held an impeccable slyness. “I’ll just go and tattle, then. Oh, is that shampoo and conditioner on that shelf…? Maybe you should be squeezing  _ those _ instead…”

She began to slink away. Roger, enraged, thrust Joshua aside and bolted. His fists were as curled as his sneer — Joshua knew  _ very _ well what the hothead had planned next. This was terrifyingly violent, even more than those rats earlier, but he wouldn’t stand back and watch. Swiftly, Joshua shoved a foot in front of Roger’s legs. He tumbled, yet caught himself when he was inches away from eating concrete.

“Brat…!” Roger hopped back up to his feet with Joshua in his sights. Without further consideration, he flung a fist. His strike whiffed Joshua by a few inches — but it was still far too close for comfort. 

“Quit it…!” Joshua covered his head with his hands as he leapt a few feet to the right. Roger attempted a roundhouse kick, only to miss his target and spin out. As he lost balance, he collapsed to the floor a second time. Risa stood nearby, her eyes wide like freshly-picked nostrils. Her forced scoff did not cloak her shock.

“He’s looney!” She reached up, dropping the green hood from her head. Her unkempt brown hair was exposed to the light of the janitor’s closet. “He’s… getting back up!”

She was right — Roger was lifting himself from the ground, his face now erupting into a full crimson. It seemed he would be taking no prisoners this time. Now, the only thing he wanted to do was pound his opponents into orange juice pulp.

“Do something!” Risa shouted at Joshua. “You were dodging his punches like they were nothing, you stopped those rats — decimate him!”

“What!? Th-That’s all just blind luck!” Joshua peered down to Roger. The bully’s legs were wobbling, but he had assumed his most fearsome state. He fumed, blowing hot air from his nose, as veins bulged upon his forehead. His orange shirt contrasted with his red skin. His muscular forearms looked as if they could pound through stone. Any moment now, the monster would charge. All hell would be unleashed.

“ _ Y-You _ do something!” Joshua yelped. Such an assertive tone was nearly unheard of from him, but he was desperate. Risa, with her teeth clenched, looked all around. There was no easy solution out of this one. She had to act out of instinct. She could only hope that the others could keep a secret.

Roger was ready to lunge.

Risa, with no other options, flung her fingers in front of her. She pointed at Roger’s cafeteria tray and focused her thoughts on that slice of pizza. And then, she swung her arm. The pizza flew. Joshua gasped as it levitated across that closet with the speed of a fastball.

_ Splat — _ it struck Roger across the right cheek.

_ “What!?” _ Joshua said. He couldn’t believe his own eyes. He had just watched a slice of pizza  _ aerially maneuver _ through the room. Roger seemed equally aghast — he was too shocked to pry the greasy, cheesy projectile from his face.

“W-Well.” Risa felt a little embarrassed, but she couldn’t help but smile proudly. “Now… that’s what I call a real Pizza Face. Uh, literally. Heh heh…”

The pizza slid from Roger’s cheek — as if it was also unimpressed with Risa’s joke. Its absence revealed that the greasy-haired, greasy-faced punk was seething. His breaths had increased fivefold and his knuckles had gone white in rage.

“Some sort of  _ witch!?” _ Roger stepped closer to her, raising a fist. “Slapping me? Humiliating me? Flinging my lunch around as a  _ magic trick!?  _ Why, I oughtta…”

Before he could bring his knuckles down, Risa’s eyes sparkled. It was as if they were windows to the soul, and that soul was far from happy. She whispered  _ something _ underneath her breath, though Joshua was far too petrified to hear it. Her palm flared up, crackling with psychokinetic plasma. Hues of purple danced between her fingers, ready to be thrust to the world around her. It was electricity. Violent, erratic — the essence of thunderstorms at her very command.

Despite all the electricity in the room, Joshua and Roger both felt powerless.

“...That’s enough,” Risa said. “You know, I  _ really _ just wanted to take a nap. Now, Roger. Why don’t you leave now and spend the rest of lunch… in the  _ bathroom. _ I know you’re about to crap yourself anyway.”

Roger, his eyes glazed like doughnuts, staggered towards the closet door. Flecks of inexpensive cheese still caked his face. The sweat pouring from his forehead only made him shine brighter.

Joshua, too, was pouring buckets.

“Oh, and don’t tell anyone what you saw.” Risa lowered her fingertips towards Roger — and the lightning looked as if it was ready to snap at him. “Or… you know.”

“B-B…” Roger wanted to provide a final retort, but he was too terrified to let loose. What had he been preparing to say?  _ Bad? Butthole? But my pizza? _ It didn’t matter. A second later, Roger was gone, pacing away from the cafeteria as fast as he could go.

Risa, satisfied with her work, extinguished her fingers. The lightning vanished. Once again, the janitor’s closet was only lit by a single light. Yet even with that bulb hovering over Joshua’s head, he was  _ completely _ out of ideas. To think that talking animals used to be surprising to him. 

“You’re sweating. A lot. Uh, you might want to use that shampoo and conditioner. It’s over there, on the shelf.” Risa pointed her fingers, and even though they were free of electricity, Joshua still let loose with a deafening squeal.

“Don’t electrocute me!”

“Electrocute you…? Hey, my fingers aren’t glowing, genius!” Risa’s eyes rolled as she groaned. “Well, this sucks. No one’s going to believe that flippin’ moron Roger when he tells everyone about this.  _ You’re _ the one I have to worry about.”

“I… I won’t tell a soul!” Joshua squeaked.

“Is that right?” Risa sighed, shoving her hood back over her head. “I hope so… ‘cause if you did, you’d be on the business end of my PK Thunder for sure…”

“P-Picky what?”

“Uh-huh. Okay, next topic!” She forced a grin and shoved her hands into her pockets. “You know, you’re good at getting into  _ trouble. _ Like, those rats from earlier. And that big greasy rat just now. Hitting and dodging and stuff like that. You’re  _ really sorry _ that you saw my lightning powers… right?”

“P-Positively!” Joshua’s teeth were beginning to chatter, even though the closet was intolerably humid. “I’m sorry! So sorry!”

“Great, ‘cause it just so happens that I need an  _ exterminator  _ like yourself. There’s this cave behind my house — filled with all sorts of nasties. Like bats. There’s flippin’ bats everywhere. I know there’s something good in there, because I’ve seen it. But I need some help. Good, experienced help.”

“...Help?” Joshua didn’t feel so good about that. This girl that he barely knew was trying to drag him along on some sort of dangerous mission. It felt like something out of  _ Knights of Gaphila — _ as if he were a secondary character being forced into a plot for the sake of a  _ quest. _

“Yeah, _ help,”  _ Risa said. “Besides…”

She looked at the pizza on the floor. It lay, stagnant, with a single bite taken out of it.

“...You kind of owe me.”

“Well, I…”

Before Joshua could respond, someone else barged into the janitor’s closet. With a wrinkled frown on her face and her soup ladle at her side, she looked furious indeed. It was the lunch lady. Joshua had completely forgotten about  _ her. _

“What in the food pyramid’s name is going on in here? Did you have to recruit help to find a bottle of  _ general cleaner?”  _ She bent down, picking the bottle of cleaner from the ground. “It’s here on the ground, you dunce! It’s as if someone just dropped it there…! I swear. The lengths I go for cafeteer-ing. It’s astounding. Real astounding.”

She shoved it into Joshua’s arms without hesitation.

“Now  _ go clean up your mess!” _ she snapped.

Joshua, biting down on his tongue, looked over at Risa. She waved coyly as the lunch lady began dragging him out of the janitor’s closet.

“I’ll see you after school.” Her eyes held a gleam, not one of psychokinetic electricity, but rather of mischievous glee. “And don’t you dare forget…!”

And then, the flabbergasted Joshua was dragged away. He had a cafeteria table covered with chocolate milk to attend to, after all. That was a disaster that he was capable of cleaning up. But his worldview? After seeing supernatural powers like Risa’s, Joshua wasn’t sure what was real or not anymore. His mind, too, was a mess. 

He wasn’t sure if wiping  _ that _ down would do any good.


End file.
